Dear Life
by JoMarchWrites
Summary: Just when Elliot Stabler believes he might be able to get his life together, it falls apart completely. He feels the weight on his shoulders, the pressure to be the strength for his children. He knows, though, that there's not much he can do alone. The realization hits him, hard, that he isn't alone at all. He has Olivia, his partner, and he vows to hold onto her for dear life. EO
1. Chapter 1

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

"Okay, now carry the one and you have..." Olivia watched the young boy write down the answer to his math problem while she shifted the girl on her lap to her other leg. "See? It's not that hard, kiddo."

The boy looked up at her. "Quit your job with the cops and please come be my math teacher?" He gave her a puppy-eyed pout.

She laughed and brushed her hand over his head. "Sorry, spud, but that's not going to happen."

The girl on her lap, busying herself with spelling homework, said, "Daddy would go crazy."

"Yeah, Lizzie," a voice from the doorway said, and then the man sighed. "Daddy would go crazy." He walked over to the kids and Olivia, smiling. He kissed the children on their foreheads and looked down. "Are you all done? Do I need to sign these?"

Lizzie nodded and handed her scribbled script to her father. "On the bottom, please."

He took his son's math homework as well and as he signed both pages he said, "Dickie, Lizzie, man, you two are smart."

"Liv helped," the boy proclaimed.

"I'm sure she did, pal," the man said. "Hey, you two, go upstairs, put your homework away, and get cleaned up for dinner. Tell your sisters to come set the table, huh?"

"Okay, Daddy," Lizzie said, hopping down off of Olivia's lap. She slapped her brother in the arm. "You're it!" she yelled, running toward the stairs.

Olivia smiled, watching them play until they were out of sight. Then, with a sigh, she turned to him. "Are you okay, El?"

He nodded, heading to the fridge. He opened it and grabbed a can of beer, popping the top. He let the refrigerator close as he took a sip from the can and looked at the stove. "What are you making?"

"Uh," she rose from her chair and grabbed her coat and keys off of the table. "Something I saw Rachael Ray make once. I didn't have a lot of time and she said it would only take thirty minutes, so I gave it a shot."

"Smells delicious," he said, taking another sip of his beer and turning. His eyes widened as he saw her heading for the door with her coat in her hands. "Where are you going?" His voice was panicked, his steps fast as he grabbed her arm. "Don't...I mean, you can't..."

"I...El, I..." She stopped, seeing the fear and desperation in his eyes. She took a short breath. "I just want to hang my coat on the hook," she said, staring at him, confused. "The second I walked in, your twins pulled me over to the table to help them with their homework, so I just threw it off, but your kids need to set the..."

"Sorry," he interrupted softly, loosening his grip on her arm. He ran his hand up and down slowly, and then took her hand in his. "I don't know why I...I just, uh..."

"Don't worry about it," she said, cutting him off and tugging her hand out of his. She closed her eyes and let out another slow breath, moving to the coat rack. She hung her coat up, dropped her keys into the pocket, and pulled out her cell phone. She dialed and waited, and as quietly as she could, she whispered, "Hey, Casey, I...no, no I'm not going to be able to make it. Yeah, work. No, you don't have to. I'm with Elliot right now, actually. I know. Thanks for trying." She laughed sadly. "Yeah, maybe. Tell him I'm sorry." She hung up, but stared down at the phone in her hands with a bittersweet expression on her face, wondering if she'd cancelled her plans for the right reason. She wasn't sure if Elliot wanted her to stay because he wanted and needed her, or just because he didn't want to be alone with the kids.

"Liv," his voice broke into her confused thoughts. He smiled when she looked over at him. "Come on." He held out his hand for her.

Returning his small grin, she placed her hand in his. "How'd it go with Tucker?"

Elliot rolled his eyes. "It was a bullshit call and he knew it. He just does anything and everything he can to trip me up. He fucking held me in that office for two hours...over a fucking technicality." He scraped his lip over his teeth and realized in the momentary silence that he was still holding Olivia's hand. He smiled, another realization striking him: he didn't mind. He looked at her and said, "I thought...after all of this...everything with Kathy...he'd cut me some slack. At least, for a while."

"El, you know Tucker isn't exactly human." She laughed and dropped his hand when she walked into the kitchen and saw his kids, not willing to attempt an explanation. Not when she couldn't even explain it to herself.

"He sent flowers," Elliot shrugged, pulling out a chair for Olivia. "I thought that meant he had a little sympathy."

She stared at his lips as he settled himself into the chair next to hers. Shaking her head, ignoring the slightly impure thought that had crept up, she said, "The department sent them, not Tucker."

"Point," he said, making a face. He turned his attention to the table, smiling. "After dinner, Liv, we, uh, we should talk, yeah?"

She looked at him, and then took in the sight before her. His kids, who'd lost their mother little more than two months ago, seemed happy as they passed vegetables and rice around the table, teasing, throwing napkins at each other, and politely asking for the salt and pepper. She laughed when a dinner roll seemed to fly across the table on its own, hitting Dickie in the head. She laughed even harder when that young boy picked the bread up off the table and took a bite.

Her laugh was music to Elliot's ears, and he leaned closer to her and whispered, "They wouldn't be...we...we wouldn't be this happy, if you weren't here." Slowly, watching her eyes, he grabbed for her hand again, under the table, entangling their fingers and resting them on his knee.

She saw something slightly unfamiliar in his eyes, something she thought she'd seen a handful of times before but was sure had only been her imagination. She blinked once and her gaze fell to his hand, holding hers, and she shrugged the feeling away. "You would've been okay without..."

"No, Liv," he interrupted. "We wouldn't have been." He narrowed his eyes. "I wouldn't have been. Why do you think I freaked out when I noticed you were on your way to meet that lawyer Casey set you up with?"

Her eyes widened and her lips curled into a disbelieving scowl. "Are you...you knew?"

He smiled at her, and with his free hand, he picked up his fork and jabbed it into a piece of chicken. "I told you, we...we should talk." He shoved the fork into his mouth and his eyes rolled. "God, this is good."

She smiled at him and tried to pull her hand out of his, but he squeezed tighter and shot his eyes to hers, shaking his head the slightest bit. Swallowing hard and nodding once at him, she said, "I'm glad you like it."

He nodded back as he filled his mouth with another forkful. He was about to say something to her when another roll whizzed by his head. "Hey!" he shouted, forking a carrot into his mouth.

Olivia watched him chew as he got lost in a conversation with his oldest daughter, Maureen, and years of waiting and hoping hit her. Conversations she had with him, fights she had with him, the bond and the chemistry she had with him...maybe it all meant something after all. She looked down at her hand in his again, as if she couldn't really believe it was there, and she let herself relax.

"This chicken is amazing," Kathleen, the middle girl, said with a bright smile. "Thanks, Liv!"

Elliot turned to look at her, then. "Yeah. Thank you," he said softly. "For everything."

She smiled and nodded as she finally took a bite of her dinner, and tried to quell the nerves flooding her system. She knew she'd be nervous, though, until her after-dinner conversation with Elliot was over.

 **Two Months Earlier...**

"It's not...no, but I told you I was..." Elliot paused and exhaled harshly as his hand shot to his forehead. He rubbed harshly, squeezing his eyes shut. "Fine, whatever, I'm at work anyway, so...I know you're not. Okay. Kiss them for me. You, too, Kathy." He hung up the phone and looked over at his partner, who was staring out toward the flashing blue and red lights, sipping her coffee. "Cut the act," he told her, smirking.

"Huh?" Olivia returned, looking at him. "Were you saying something?"

"You heard that entire conversation, don't pretend you didn't," he laughed, sticking his phone back in his pocket. "I thought when I told her I wanted to come back home she'd...I don't know...hate me a little less."

"She doesn't hate you," she whispered, raising an eyebrow.

He took a breath and sighed, nodding. "You're right, I know, we just...have issues to work out." He took the coffee out of her hand and took a sip, ignoring the annoyed expression on her face. "It's why I'm still on your couch."

"If you want to stay on my couch and not out on your ass, you'll give me back my coffee." She tried to give him a threatening glare, but it was no use. One look into his eyes and she smiled at him. She took the coffee, took a sip, and handed it back to him. "How much longer you think this is going to take?"

He shrugged. "They're clearing the building," he said. "Anywhere from a few more minutes to a few more hours."

"And we just have to stand here in the cold, waiting," she grumbled, folding her arms and shaking her head.

He laughed and held the coffee cup to her lips, enjoying the way she eyed him strangely as he made her sip.

She licked her lips, furrowing her brow at him. "All right, thanks, Daddy."

He cleared his throat then, trying to stifle the images of a few vivid fantasies he'd had where she called him that, under very different circumstances. He took the last sip of the coffee and rubbed his eyes. He knew how wrong it was, but he couldn't help thinking of his partner, his best friend, and it's one of the reasons his marriage was in jeopardy. Blinking away a particularly hot image of her in the shower, he raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I asked...uh, when are you going home?" she repeated, trying not to let on that her heart had broken just a bit when he told her his plans to give things with his wife another go. She eyed him, watching him think of how to answer, and the puffs of white heat coming from his mouth as his breath hit the frigid air gave her goose-bumps. She could almost feel that hot breath on her neck, her lips, in her ear, and hitting sensitive spots on her body. She bit her lip, fighting the fantasy, and waited.

"I'm not sure," he told her. "That's what the phone call you pretended not to hear was about. I was supposed to go home tomorrow, but she's taking the kids to visit her parents for the weekend. She wanted me to go, but..." he waved a hand at the crime scene in front of them.

She gave him a small smile. "Well, you can keep my couch company for another night or two," she told him, nudging him in the side with her elbow. "Eighty-six."

"What?" he questioned, tilting his head.

"That's how many nights have started off this way," she said, gesturing to the firemen finally exiting the burnt and smoking building. "Eighty-six nights we got called because something blew up or was set on fire, because one of our vics or a perp from an open-case was involved."

"You've kept count?" he asked, chuckling. He thought he saw her blush, and as he took her leather-gloved hand and pulled her toward the now-clear apartment building, he said, "It's eighty-seven."

"How do you figure...what did I forget?" she twisted her face up in a confused grin.

"Probably the Logan case," he told her, nodding once. "There were two explosions, there. I wish we could forget that one. John was..."

"I know what John was," she interrupted. She pulled her hand out of his, wondering why he'd taken it in the first place, and was about to ask the fire marshal a question, when she heard Elliot's phone ring. "El, really?"

He shrugged and gave her an apologetic look as he answered his phone. "Stabler," he said, holding up a finger to the marshal. "Honey, what's the matter? Okay, okay, sweetie, calm down. I'll be right there. Call nine-one-one, and I...I'm on my way. I love you."

Olivia watched him as he turned completely white and began running back toward the sedan. "What happened?" she yelled after him.

"I'll explain in the car," he yelled back, but he turned when he realized she wasn't with him. "Liv, please? Come on! Now!"

She looked at the marshal, and then shot another detective a concerned look. "Handle this," she said to him before turning and running toward Elliot. She got into the passenger seat, hooked her seat-belt, and said, "Where are we going? What happened?"

Shaking and trying not to cry, he shifted the car into gear and peeled away from the curb. "Maureen went downstairs to get a drink, she found Kathy on the living room floor...she couldn't...she's not..."

"Okay," she said, trying to stay calm now, and she nodded once as she took a deep breath. "I'm right here, El, okay, no more talking, just drive." She hit the button on the dashboard light, telling Elliot it was okay to drive faster. She looked him and saw sheer panic in his eyes. She let her hand drop to his, and he immediately linked her fingers with his and clutched the gear with her hand under his. She didn't know how she knew, but she had a strong feeling in the pit her stomach that he needed her now, more than he ever had. Turning her head, she took another shaky breath and promised him silently, that she would be there.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**

 ** _MarchCommaJo on Twitter_**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Olivia stood, leaning against the wall with her phone in her hand and her lip caught between her teeth. She had called Cragen and explained things, and then started the more difficult phone calls. Friends, family, and after a deep breath and a cup of coffee, the funeral home and church. She kept herself composed, but every time she looked over at Elliot, her heart broke and her nose burned. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly through tightly pursed lips. Hearing his voice, though, she turned around and stood up straight.

He shook the doctor's hand, sniffled and rubbed his eyes, and then plopped into the chair right next to where Olivia was standing. He dropped his head into his hands, his shoulders shaking with light sobs, but he relaxed when he felt Olivia's hand on his shoulder. He picked his head up and sniffled again, wiped away his tears, and cleared his throat. "She...uh..." he looked up at her, with pained eyes and trembling lips, and then spoke. "An aneurysm. A fucking aneurysm." He laughed bitterly. "I've been shot, stabbed, nearly crushed, blown up, and I'm still fucking here, but she dies because of a fucking aneurysm!"

"Breathe," she said softly, squeezing his shoulder tightly. She jumped a bit when his hand fell over hers, her eyes widening when his fingers laced with hers. Her heart stopped, briefly, and she let her tight lungs relax and ran the pad of her thumb over the side of his hand. He needed the comfort, and if she was being honest, so did she. "Your kids have..."

"Oh, God," he interrupted her with a moan. "What am I supposed to tell the kids? What am I supposed to do? How am I..."

"El, relax, please," she said, her other hand moving to his other shoulder. "When Kathy's parents showed up, they asked me and I...I already told them."

He narrowed his eyes. "Her parents? They were here? When? Where was I?"

"You were with the doctor, signing forms and..." she cleared her throat, looking away from him. "They were here for about an hour, waiting, and Kathy's father just wanted to know so...I told them what I could..."

"Jesus," he spat, shaking his head. He looked around, then, not seeing his kids. "What the hell...where'd they go? Shit, are they okay? What did you say?"

Blinking away her own tears, she told him, "I looked each one of them in the eyes, told them how much their mother loved them and that she needed to be with God so she could be their angel, and I...I obviously told her parents the harsher truth." She took another breath and said, "I told them I would take care of things here, with you, because the kids shouldn't be here. Not like this. Kathy's parents agreed, so they took them home. They're just fine. Breathe."

"You told my kids..." he choked up trying to speak, and shot up out of his seat, his hand squeezing hers harder.

She stiffened, ready for him to yell at her, hate her, but he threw his body into hers with enough force to knock her into the wall behind her. She felt his arms wrap around her and tighten, and she heard him start to cry on her shoulder. With shaking hands and aching arms, she splayed her palms over his back and closed her eyes, giving in. "Okay," she whispered. "Okay, I'm right here. I got you."

He held her tighter and nodded into the crook of her neck, trying to pull himself together. "I know you do," he whispered.

She ran her hands over his back again, but when she caught a glimpse of the blurry figures coming toward them, she tried to push him off of her. "El...El, people are...I mean, it's Cragen and..."

"I don't care," he hissed with a sniffle. He pulled her tighter, and mumbled something unintelligible into her neck.

Cragen, Fin, Munch, and a few other colleagues slowed their run to a jog, and then wairily walked closer to Olivia and Elliot. They looked at each other, confused and unsure of what to say in the current situation. Giving condolences to a victim's family was easy, but this was different. This was hard. Cragen, taking the scene before him for what it was, tried to stop his eyes from filling with tears and was the first to speak. "Elliot, what...what can we do?"

Elliot shook his head, rubbing against the cotton of Olivia's turtleneck as he let out another coughed sob.

Olivia smoothed her hands over his back once again and shot Cragen a look and slowly shook her head.

Understanding, Cragen nodded at her and laid a fatherly hand on Elliot's shoulder. "We'll be here for a while, if you need anything." He looked over at Fin and Munch, and then back to Olivia. "Coffee?"

"God, yes, please." She tried to smile. "For him, too. Thanks."

Cragen nodded, and the three men headed for the hospital cafe.

She took yet another deep breath and patted Elliot's back. "You want to sit down?"

He sniffled and nodded, but didn't make any moves to let go of her as they fumbled their way to the waiting room chairs. He almost fell into her when he hit the plastic seat, but he whispered, "I'm sorry. So sorry."

"For what?" she asked, genuinely perplexed. He had nothing to apologize for, and she was slightly pissed off that he thought he did.

He shook his head as he finally lifted it out of the bend of her neck. He wiped his eyes and scrubbed a hand down his face, and took a few shallow breaths before saying, "Tackling you." He let himself chuckle, just a bit.

She laughed, smiling at him, and said, "Hey, you can tackle me anytime." She gave his hand a light squeeze. There was a short stretch of silence as he regained his composure and she bit her lip, practically chewing on it. She looked at him, her heart cracking more with each passing moment. "Your mother's on her way to..."

"You called my mother?" he asked, cutting her off.

Still biting her lip, she nodded. "I called her and your brother, Kathy's sister...I also called her office, but since it was after midnight, you know, I just left a message. And, uh, I know you don't want to...um...you have to meet with the mortician tomorrow afternoon and the insurance rep wouldn't tell me anything because I'm not family, so you have to call him back later, but the priest I talked to seemed nice. He sends...why are you staring at me?"

He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head, with a small but unmistakable smile on his face. "You called...everyone? You even started planning the...wh-why?"

She shrugged. "I knew you needed more time, and you weren't ready to deal with...all of this...but it needed to get done, so I did it." She stopped biting her lip and moved to chewing on the inside of her cheek. "Is there anyone else you need me to call?"

He smiled at her. "I think you called people I wouldn't have even remembered to call." He looked away from her, hearing footsteps approaching, and he smiled gratefully at his captain and colleagues. "Thanks," he said, taking the coffee Munch was holding out to him. He immediately gave it to Olivia and took a second cup from Fin.

"You, uh, you take all the time you need, Elliot," Cragen said, taking a sip of his own coffee. "And if you need anything at all, just ask."

Elliot nodded, licked his lips, and looked up at Cragen with new tears building in his eyes. "There is one thing. I, uh, I need Liv," he said to his captain. "She, uh...I need her help."

Cragen nodded sympathetically and said, "Of course. Both of you, um, take as much as time as you need." He shot a curious look toward Olivia, who looked just as surprised and confused as he felt.

"Thank you," Elliot said, rising. "I have to sign a few more forms, Kathy she...she was an organ donor, so they're in there, taking out...uh..." he lost his words as he lost his breath, brought his hand to his mouth, and fell back into the chair, back into Olivia.

* * *

"How are you holding up?" Olivia asked, squeezing the back of Elliot's neck lightly. He had only stopped crying a few moments ago, and she was trying like hell to keep him from doing it again. Whenever he cried, she wanted to, and he needed her to be stronger.

He shook his head and exhaled harshly. "I don't know," he said, shrugging. "You heard her father, he actually...his daughter isn't even gone for a full day and he's already asking about her will and her..."

"He's a lawyer," she said, breaking into his complaining. "He wasn't asking for selfish reasons, he was asking because he wasn't sure if you knew what to do. Who to call." She squeezed his neck again, trying to work out a knot in his muscle. "Relax," she whispered.

He let his eyes close and his head loll backward, hitting the plaster wall of the funeral home's waiting area. "Yeah," he said, sighing. "You're right." He opened one eye and looked at her, and he felt something inside of him leap. He remembered, though he wasn't sure why, one of their earliest cases together, how tirelessly and effortlessly she worked to make sure they had a suspect in custody so he would be home in time for his twins' birthday. He smiled at her and knew, then, that her being by his side was nothing new. He reached for her free hand, clasping it with his.

She let him hold her hand, smiled back at him, and tilted her head. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Oh, I've, uh, just been thinking." He cleared his throat, looked around, and said, "The way you yelled at that insurance guy, I thought you were going to kill him."

"I was," she said, seriously, with a nonchalant shrug. "He kept dodging questions and skirting around...it was like he was trying to find a reason not to process the claim. I mean, shit, El, the man was getting on my nerves, and we needed the money to be available today, I wasn't in the mood for his crooked bullshit."

He chuckled and slid his thumb along the edge of her hand, absently. "You were wonderful. You asked him the things I should have been...I don't know where my head went, you know? I just got so...lost in thought...and when I finally snapped out of it, you had him near tears writing me checks and handing you files and folders."

"I can be pretty damn persuasive when I have to be," she told him, unaware that she was still giving his neck a small massage. As if only realizing the wrongness of it, she dropped her hand away and cleared her throat. She looked over her shoulder. into the stuffy office behind her, and sighed again. Looking back at Elliot, she said, "You, uh, you picked a nice one."

"It's simple, it's...her," he said with a shrug. "Some of those caskets, I mean, platinum, solid gold, titanium...there were some that cost more than my house! I don't get it, you don't even know you're in there, and it's just going to lay in the ground for...the cold, dead..." he paused, his voice breaking as his thoughts drifted again. He closed his eyes and dropped his head to her shoulder. He took a few slow, deep breaths and then got off of her, looked into her eyes, and felt himself anchoring, steadying.

She held his gaze, unsure of what the expression on his face meant, and her heart began to race when she figured it out. "We should..."

"Mister Stabler," the mortician poked his head out of his office door, breaking up the moment, and gave Elliot a polite smile. "You're all set." He stepped out into the hallway, holding a large envelope out to Elliot. "Your friend, here, picked the perfect verse for the prayer cards, and..."

"Sorry, what?" Elliot shook his head in short, fast bursts and furrowed his brow. "What, um, what did she..." he was cut off when the taller, older gentleman handed him a piece of paper. His eyes welled up again as he read, to himself, "I am home in Heaven, dear ones. Oh, so happy and so bright. There is perfect joy and beauty in this everlasting light. All the pain and grief is..." he stopped, his throat closing up, and he cupped a hand over his mouth and finished reading the poem. When he was finished, he looked at Olivia, his eyes wet with tears, and he said, "It really is perfect."

"I thought it...you know," she gave up trying to speak, her own emotions failing as she looked at him, seeing him ready to cry again.

He smiled at her, breathing slowly, and looked back at the mortician. "So, uh, tomorrow."

"Yes, we will have her laid out by eleven, for family, and the first viewing will start at noon. You'll have time afterward, but you'll need to return by four. We've prepared a full mass for the second viewing, at your friend's insistence, and then..."

"Partner," Elliot said, as if only just hearing the man refer to Olivia as simply a friend. "She's my partner. Um, we work...and, uh, best friend. Right. Sorry." He coughed and swallowed back the lump in his throat, and said, "The funeral, did we arrange for a car, or..."

"The department is covering that," Olivia said, interrupting. "Cragen said they're providing a limo and a police escort from here to the church, and then from the church to the cemetary."

"When did you talk to Cragen?" he asked her, his brows knitting.

She picked a few bits of fuzz off of his jacket as she said, "When you were paying for all of this and signing the forms."

He grabbed her hand, fast and hard, holding it tightly near the collar of his shirt. "You...amaze me." He blinked and then turned back to the mortician. "I, uh, I guess that's it. Thank you." He let go of Olivia's wrist and shook the man's hand again, and then looped an arm around Olivia's waist as they left the funeral parlor.

"Hey, um, not that I want to bring this up, because the thought of anything...happening to you..." she shuddered and let the fear fall away. "Where she's being buried...the plot is for her parents, her, and her sister, but you..."

"Yeah, that...that was the source of quiet a few arguments, but I guess, uh, it worked out for the best." He looked skyward and laughed almost pitifully. "I couldn't even make things work between us when she was alive, so spending an eternity with a woman who was two seconds away from filing for a divorce..." he licked his lips, and then scratched at the stubble on his chin. "God works in mysterious ways, you know? Things always...things always work out the way they...the way they should." He caught her eyes and said, "Don't they?"

"If that's honestly what you believe, then yes," she said to him. She looked around, then, the bright sun hitting the sidewalk, birds chirping and flying over their heads, and the slightest breeze filtering through the trees. "It's a beautiful day. Strange, for this time of year."

He held his breath as he shoved his hands in his pockets, the desire to hold her hand as they walked was intense. He exhaled slowly and said, "What are you doing tonight?"

She smiled at him. "Helping you get all of your crap out of my apartment," she teased, giving him a small shove.

He laughed, the first real laugh he'd had since he'd gotten the phone call that changed his life. "After that," he said, playfully elbowing her in return. "Do you...my kids are in bad shape, and the twins...they're confused about all of this. You wouldn't mind...I mean...never mind, you...you probably have a date, right?"

"Are you trying to ask me to help you out with the kids tonight?" she questioned, the small light of hope in her heart glowing dimly.

He looked at her, almost embarrassed, and he nodded. "That's kind of pathetic, isn't it? I should be their rock, right now, but I can't..."

"Rocks have to lean on other rocks, sometimes, El," she interrupted, "Or they'd crumble." She gave him a reassuring smile. "Of course, I'll give you a hand. With whatever you need. We'll swing by my place, get your stuff, and..."

"Liv," he said, stopping her. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and curled them around her arms.

She could tell by the look in his eyes, she could read the question behind the emotions, and she said, "I didn't have a date. Even if I did, you know, you and your kids would come before anyone else."

Heaving a relieved sigh, he let her go, shoving his hands back into his pockets. They walked slowly toward her apartment, comfortable silence and idle chatter taking turns filling the time, and as he watched her climb the steps to her building, he looked up toward the bright, clear sky. "The Lord taketh away," he said to himself, and as his eyes fell back to Olivia, opening the door, he smiled. "But the Lord certainly does giveth."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

Olivia tugged on her black dress, feeling somewhere between self-conscious and nervous, as she walked toward Elliot. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and called his name. When he didn't turn around to look at her, she stepped even closer. "Kids are asleep," she said softly.

She was met with more silence, but she understood. It had been a long, hard, very emotional day, and if the kids were exhausted, she could only imagine what was going on in Elliot's head. She smiled sadly at him, moved over to the couch, and picked up her coat and keys.

"We were happy, once," his strained voice stopped her from moving toward the door. She squinted a bit and turned to him, noticing that he was holding a framed photo in his hands. A picture of him with Kathy, from their wedding.

He turned, finally, and looked Olivia in the eyes. "I didn't want you to think…" he stopped, and as he set the frame back on the shelf, he said, "I loved her, I really did. But that…changed, and I know when." He scraped his teeth over his bottom lip. "I had this messed up dream last night, in the ten minutes of sleep I actually got, where I found this letter from Kathy…she said she died because she didn't want to live through a divorce, and she knew that's where we were headed."

"It was just a dream," Olivia said, moving closer to him. She reached out a hand to lay it on his shoulder, but thought better of it and looked downward. "You were trying to work things out."

"It wouldn't have helped. I'd be back on your couch…" he began, but shook his head and turned to look at Olivia. His eyes narrowed and he took a step closer to her. "You're leaving?"

She eyed him curiously for a moment. "I thought that…I thought you might need to be…"

"I don't want to be alone," he interrupted, shaking his head. "And you…God, you're the only thing keeping me standing right now." He laughed in spite of his sadness. "Did I tell you…how beautiful you look tonight?"

She almost blushed, tossing her coat back over the arm of the couch. "No," she said. She dropped her keys onto the coffee table. "Are you hungry? You haven't eaten anything."

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Kind of," he said meekly, as if he'd somehow felt guilty for being hungry. He scratched at his neck and looked around the room. "Shit," he breathed then, "What am I going to do with all of this stuff?" He gestured to the curio cabinets filled with Kathy's collected knick-knacks and snow globes. "Her clothes, her shoes, her…she was very clear about all of this, she wants it all donated, but I can't just…"

"Hey," Olivia said, offering a small grin as she interrupted him. "We'll order a pizza, or something, I'll get out of this dress, you take a hot shower, and I'll help you organize everything in bins and boxes, and I'll take it where it needs to go tomorrow night, after the funeral and…"

"Wow," he cut her off and chuckled softly, staring at her. "You said…the kids are asleep? All of them?"

Olivia nodded, grabbing her coat again. She fished her cell phone out of the pocket as she said, "The twins conked out as soon as their little heads hit their pillows, Kathleen needed a cup of chamomile tea to calm down enough to sleep, and Maureen…" she stopped, gnawing on her bottom lip as she turned her phone around in her hands and fell onto the sofa.

"What?" he asked softly, seeing Olivia's eyes start to water. "Are you…why are you crying?" He sat beside her and smoothed a hand over her shoulder.

She shook her head and tried to smile. Rolling her eyes at herself, her bottom lip trembled as she said, "She broke my heart. She got in bed, and I asked if she needed anything, she said she just wanted…a hug, and I gave her one, but she…she held on so tight and she just…cried. Harder than I've ever seen her cry, and there was nothing I could do, I just sat on the bed, holding her, wishing I could make this all go away, and I can't, and I don't know how to help…"

"Liv, breathe," he said to her, squeezing her shoulder tightly. He reached his other hand up and swiped away her tears, and he looked into her wet, red eyes. "You have already helped, more than anyone could have asked. You were there for her," he whispered. "Just like…you've been here for me. For all of us." He let out a slow breath.

Olivia blinked away the last of her tears, breathed deeply, and tried to calm herself down. "She cried herself to sleep, El, on my shoulder." She turned her head to look at him. "I laid her down, tucked her in, and…"

"And I can't thank you enough," he whispered, looking back at her. "You, um, you order whatever you want for us, I'm taking that shower." He rose off the couch and looked around the room again before his eyes landed on Olivia's once more. "I won't be long." He smiled at her and let his hand drag down her arm until he squeezed her hand. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he needed to say, but he didn't have a clue how. He simply gave her another smile, and then walked off heading up the steps toward his bedroom.

After watching him leave, Olivia looked down at her phone and dialed the number for Elliot's favorite pizza place. She ordered a large one with his favorite toppings, because, after all, she didn't care about what she wanted. Her priority was Elliot.

* * *

"It was a beautiful service," Cragen said to Olivia, as he put his hat on his head. "How…how is he, really?"

Olivia shook her head, folded her arms, and shrugged. "He says he's fine, but is anyone ever fine when they're going through this?"

Cragen made a scoffing sound as he shook his head and pulled on his coat. He caught a glimpse of Elliot's twins running around the sofa chasing each other with white balloons. "His kids…seem really comfortable with you. You held Lizzie throughout the entire burial."

She shrugged. "I'm his partner, Cap. They're almost like my…"

"Family," Cragen said, turning to look at her. "I know." He gave her a small, fatherly hug, and then looked around for Elliot. "Tell him I said goodbye, and give him my condolences again, huh?"

"I will," she said with a soft smile and a nod. "He really appreciated you being here, Cap. Really. It meant a lot to him."

Cragen smiled at her as he opened the door. "You aren't the only one who thinks of him as family." He stepped out onto the porch and said, "No rush, I know he needs time, but…we're going crazy without the two of you."

"As soon as he's ready, we'll be back," she told him with a laugh. She watched him nod again and then saw him head down the steps and toward his car. She closed the door and heard two loud pops, and knew the balloons the kids were playing with had burst. Without turning around, she yelled, "Freeze!" Slowly turning, she saw Lizzie and Dickie, frozen in mid run, with exaggerated expressions on their faces. She took two slow steps toward them, put her hands on her hips, and said, "Go change out of these clothes, please? Leave them on the bed in the guest room, okay?"

"Okay, Liv," Lizzie said, running off and up the stairs.

Olivia eyed Dickie for a moment, pulled on his tie, and said, "You look so handsome, sweetie."

"Like my Dad?" he asked, eagerness in his eyes.

Nodding, she smiled. "You look exactly like your daddy." She combed his hair back with her fingers and gave him a gentle nudge. "Go change, honey."

Dickie nodded back at her. "All right," he said, following the route his sister had taken.

After seeing him disappear around the upstairs corner, she sighed and turned, bent down to pick up the bits of burst balloon, and then headed into the kitchen. She made a resigned noise as she looked around at the half-empty platters of food, and the pile of dishes on the table and in the sink. Without hesitation, though, she dove in and started combining the food, putting it into containers, and into the refrigerator.

She popped an olive into her mouth before putting the lid on the jar, and once the last condiment was back on the shelf, she turned her attention toward the table. She had just started stacking the plates when she felt his eyes on her. She smirked, gathering the silverware. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," she joked.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he laughed. He stepped into the room and over to her.

She looked over her shoulder at him and her breath hitched. He was scruffy again, just a bit of five o'clock shadow covering his chin and cheeks. His hands were in his pockets, but he'd taken his tie off and the top buttons of his shirt were undone. He looked devastatingly gorgeous, and she tried like hell to stop herself from thinking so. "Cleaning up." She looked away from him before heat rose in her cheeks, and she lifted the bundle of dishes up and carried them over to the sink.

"Let me help you," he said, rushing over to her and opening the door to the dishwasher for her. He smiled as he watched her rinse the plates and took them when she handed them to him one-by-one. "When did you have the time?" he asked.

"Huh?" she questioned, raising a brow.

He twisted his lips at her. He knew full well she knew exactly what he was asking. "You planned this, had a deli cater and deliver the food, and when I asked you this morning if we should take everyone to a restaurant for the repast, you told me it was all taken care of, so tell me, when did you have time to take care of it?"

She shrugged as she handed him more plates. "It didn't take much, El, I just made a phone call."

"When? I was with you the…last night? When I was in the shower?" he figured, and he picked up a bunch of forks off the counter and settled them into the dishwasher. As soon as he was done, he dropped a soap pod into the holder, closed the door, and looked at Olivia. "I would never have been able to get through this without you."

She smiled at him as she reached over to set the timer and start the machine. Once she heard the whirring begin, she looked back at him. "What are partners for?"

He gave her a nudge with his elbow and said, "Come on, now, you know we haven't been just partners since…ever," he winked at her, but then grew serious as he reached for her hand. "I need you to know, I really wouldn't know what to do without you. Not just recently, either, I mean…I don't know what I'd do without you."

She watched his eyes well up, his nose turn red, and his free hand fly up to his face. "El," she whispered, her own nose burning and her chest tight with tears. "Please, don't…"

He shook his head and squeezed her hand, sniffling. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I just…God, Liv, there was no warning here! Nothing, there was no…no one was expecting this, and Maureen found her! My little girl has to live with that image of her mother, lying on the carpet, for the rest of her life, and she…" He stopped talking and looked at Olivia again, and suddenly a thought struck him. He gripped her hand a bit tighter, but a smile spread across his face. "Thank you. For all of this. For…for everything."

She swallowed back hard and let her fingers curl around his. "You don't have to thank me." She squeezed his hand again and then pulled away from him. She headed back out into the living room, over to the hooks near the door, but before she grabbed her coat, he called to her. "Yeah?" she asked, turning to him.

He gave her a small, almost embarrassed smile. He had never needed someone so much, and it killed him. "We could…watch a movie or something? And if the kids wake up, I…I can't deal with them on my own, right now."

She took in the way he stood, one leg behind the other, kicking at the floor. She noticed the way he scratched at the back of his head and bit his lip, and it was so endearing, she had to laugh. "What movie?" she asked, stepping away from her coat and walking toward the guest room door.

"Something funny," he told her, leaning against the wall as she stepped into what had become her room. "I could use a good laugh."

Olivia chuckled and nodded. "Me, too," she said, folding Lizzie's dress and Dickie's suit, and making a mental note to take them to the dry cleaner in the morning. She set them on the dresser and opened a drawer, pulling out a tee shirt and pair of sweatpants, and then turned around to look at Elliot again. She gave him a small smile as she walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

He smiled to himself as he headed for the stairs. As he climbed them, he made himself a promise. One he fully intended to keep, as soon as possible.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	4. Chapter 4

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

It was the middle of the night. The house was too quiet, especially since she was used to hearing sirens wailing and people arguing all night in front of her apartment. With a sigh, she threw the covers off of herself and padded barefoot out into the hallway. She looked around and the seemingly somber room, a chill running down her spine, and her first move was to the thermostat. She turned up the heat a bit; the house was far too cold.

Another sigh. Another step. Her eyes traveled to the now-empty curios, and she felt a pang of sadness. She'd always been fascinated by the crystals and globes, but now, they sat in boxes in Kathy's parents' attic. She shook off the melancholy memory and walked over to the large shelving unit that house the television and Dickie's video game consoles. She grabbed some photos and things off of the shelves, including a shadow box filled with Elliot's military medals. Carefully, with one hand, she opened the side of one of the glass cabinets and set the frames and awards down gingerly, arranging them with precision.

She smiled at one, an award they'd been given for case-closure at an honors banquet the previous year. She let him keep the plaque because she claimed she had nowhere to put it, but in reality it was simply because she knew it meant more to him to have something to be proud of. Something for his kids to be proud of. She closed the cabinet and toed her way into the kitchen, and then rested both hands on the marble countertop. She bit her lip, as if deciding something, and then reached up onto a higher shelf for a ceramic mug. After setting it down on the counter, she grabbed the teapot and filled it with water before setting it on the stove. While she waited for the water to boil, she set herself on the task of emptying the dishwasher.

"It's two-in-the-morning," Elliot's groggy voice called to her from the kitchen archway.

She chuckled. "And you can't sleep either, apparently." She turned to look at him, over her shoulder, and said, "Make yourself useful."

He smiled at her and took a few steps forward. "You, uh...I saw what you did in the living room. Thank you. It...it looks great. Less, um, less empty." He started grabbing for dishes and putting them away. "Listen, if..." he exhaled, finding it more difficult to broach this topic than anything, "If I kept you from something tonight..."

"You kept me from going home to an empty apartment," she interrupted, still grinning as she stacked the clean cups and glasses on the shelf. "Besides, I kind of got used to being forced to watch those awful action movies you like."

He laughed, but then he looked at her and his eyes turned downward, his face grew serious. "I don't want to be a burden," he began, "But would you..." he hesitated and cleared his throat as he repeated his question over and over in his mind, as if practicing to make sure it didn't sound pathetic. "Would you stay here? With me and the kids? Just for a couple of days, until they...until we all make sense of all of this?"

Her head tilted as her smile widened and warmed. "If you want me to, yes." She heard the shrill whistle of the teapot, and immediately grabbed a towel and wrapped it around the handle, moving the pot off the heat before the noise woke up the kids. "You want a cup?"

"Of tea?" he said, almost scoffing. "Since when do you drink tea, anyway?"

She looked at him as she dropped a teabag into her cup. "It's herbal, I'd like to get some sleep tonight." She shook her head as she poured the hot water over the bag and watched the clear swirl into a pale green. She heard him laugh and reached up for another mug, plopped a teabag into it, and filled the cup with hot water. She slid it over to him and said, "It'll calm you down."

He wrapped a hand around the side of the mug with a furrowed brow. "How did you know I was even..."

"I know you," she cut him off. "Your neck is red, which only happens when you're...not calm." She blinked a few times, took a sip of her tea, and let a small noise escape. "What happened?"

He sighed, pulling the teabag out of the cup by the string. He tossed it into the trash can and said, "Another fucking crazy dream."

"Wanna talk about it?" she asked, eyeing him carefully as she took another sip of her tea.

He turned, then, and noticed the glassy look in her eyes. Her hair was tousled and falling in loose waves to her shoulders. The shirt she'd worn to bed had drooped a bit lower on one side, exposing her left shoulder and the barest bit of her collarbone. Her pajama bottoms were more like yoga pants, hugging her curves and accentuating muscles he wasn't usually privy to, and he couldn't help his reaction. After all, he was just a man. He made a soft grunting noise, tugged on his flannel pants a bit, and shifted his body away from her slightly. "We were at work, you and me," he told her, "I got a phone call, the caller ID said 'home' so I answered it, thinking it was Kathy, but then I remembered...it's never gonna be Kathy again." He bit his lip hard, closing his eyes.

"Oh, El," she said on a breath.

He held up a hand and slowly opened his eyes. "The weird part...on the phone, it...it was you. How could you be next to me, and calling me, at the same time?"

Her eyes narrowed. "And why would you have my number listed as 'home?"

Again, his lip was sucked into his mouth, caught between his teeth, and he contemplated telling her what he thought it all meant. He opened his mouth, but the words just wouldn't come out. He sipped his tea and took a breath, hoping that the rambling thoughts in his head would make sense to him sooner or later.

"Liv?" a meek voice called out.

Olivia's head turned and she smiled at Maureen who'd just stepped into the kitchen. "What are you doing up, sweetie?"

"Something wrong, pumpkin?" Elliot asked, concerned.

"Oh, hi, Daddy," the thirteen-year-old said with a small smile. "Can, um, can I talk to Liv?"

Elliot smiled at his daughter, and then at Olivia, and said, "Sure, honey." He grabbed his mug and walked out of the kitchen, stepping to the side and hoping he'd be able to hear some of the conversation. He wasn't intentionally invading privacy, but he felt that it was his job to know if something was wrong with his daughter. When he heard silence, he grew concerned, but then the sound of his daughter's soft muffled sobs hit his ears, and he knew.

Maureen didn't want him to see her cry.

* * *

"Hey, sleepyhead," Olivia said cheerfully as Elliot walked into the kitchen.

Rubbing his eyes, he grumbled something under his breath and then asked, "What time is it?"

"After one," she told him, watching with worried eyes as he poured a cup of coffee for himself and drank it black. "You okay?"

"Why didn't you wake me up?" he asked her, not looking at her.

"Are you kidding?" she questioned, one eyebrow arched. She put the knife she'd been using down and turned to him. "You needed the sleep. You know you haven't been getting much, and you were up..."

"I head you," he barely whispered, staring down into his coffee, interrupting her.

She picked the knife back up and returned to chopping the potatoes and carrots on the cutting board in front of her. She furrowed her brow. "Heard me what?"

"With Maureen," he said, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "You...you told her that she..."

"I know what I told her," she said, not letting him finish. "She needed to hear it, and like you said, she shouldn't have the image of her mother...she shouldn't live with that being the last memory she has of Kathy."

"Liv," Elliot's voice grew a bit louder, he set the empty mug on the counter, and he looked at Olivia. "You held her, for almost an hour, while she cried, and you told her things she desperately needed to hear." He lowered his voice for the sake of the children in the next room. "You told her Kathy was just unconscious, and that she lived longer because of Maureen's quick thinking."

Olivia bit her lip as she scooped up the chopped vegetables and put them into the ceramic pot on the stove. "I'm sorry I lied to her, but I didn't want..." she didn't get a chance to finish speaking. She was pulled into Elliot's arms and squeezed tightly, his head falling to her shoulder.

"Thank you," he whispered. "God, you don't know...she didn't need to believe, for the rest of her life, that the last time she saw her mother was...like that." He pulled away from her, mentally patting himself on the back for managing to keep himself from crying. He smiled at Olivia and then, as if only noticing, he asked, "What are you doing?"

"Starting dinner," she said, pouring a carton of beef stock into the pot. She threw the empty container out and then lifted the pot into the base of the slow cooker. "It's pot roast."

He crooked an eyebrow at her and tilted his head. "We have a Crock-Pot?"

She laughed and nodded. "It was on top of the refrigerator, coated with a layer of dust an inch thick. I washed the hell out of it and figured, why not put it to use? We could all use a real dinner."

Elliot nodded, agreeing with her. "How long, uh, how long do you have to cook it?"

"Four hours," she said, turning the dial on the cooker. "It'll be ready at around five-thirty, which is when Kathy would normally..." she stopped, instantly feeling guilty for saying her name. "I just...I don't want to mess with their routine. I'm trying to keep things as normal for them as possible right now."

He exhaled and smiled at her again. "You can say her name," he told her. He chuckled when she shot him a wide-eyed and sheepish look. "I saw you...you looked like you were going to throw up when you said her name. You can. She died, it was unexpected and it fucking sucks, but I'm not going to forget she existed." He rubbed his eyes again. "We need to talk about her, ya know? Remember her."

Olivia nodded as she slid the knife and cutting board into the sink. "While you were sleeping, I took the kids clothes to the dry cleaner, dropped off a few bags of clothes at the shelter, and, uh, you probably noticed, I went to the grocery store."

He narrowed his eyes but smirked. "Really?"

"Oh, and the kids wanted to go to the park so...we did that, too," she said, brushing by him to refill her own coffee cup.

"Wait, you took the kids with you?" he asked, almost shocked.

She turned to him with large eyes. "You didn't expect me to leave them here while you were sleeping, did you?"

"Yeah," he said softly. "But, um, what time did you wake up?"

"Kathleen woke up around seven, helped me make breakfast, and the other kids were all awake and eating by eight," she said, taking a sip of her coffee and staring expectantly at Elliot.

"No, I asked what time you woke up," he said, moving closer to her. He knew exactly what she was going to say.

Biting her lip, she answered him. "I never went back to sleep," she admitted. "I walked Maureen back to her room, stayed with her until she fell asleep, and..."

"She could've come to me," he said, not meaning to break into Olivia's words, but then again, not even realizing she was still speaking. "She could have talked to me, but she...she went to you."

"El, it doesn't mean anything," Olivia said to him. "She loves you, so much, and she knows she can tell you anything, but last night, she...she told me she's trying to be strong for you, and she didn't want to let you down, by falling apart again."

"I know," he said, nodding. "I mean, that's...that's what I figured, but she doesn't have to be strong for me. I need to be strong for her. For them." He took her mug out of her hands and took a sip of her coffee, and then winked at her before giving it back. "I wouldn't be. I wouldn't be able to be strong for them if you weren't here for me." He saw the brief glint in her eyes and he wondered if what he thought he was feeling was more than just the grief manifesting itself, if she felt it all, too. "After dinner, do you want to take the kids out for ice cream? Maybe stop at your place so you could grab more stuff?"

She smiled. "That sounds like a perfect evening," she said, bringing her mug to her lips. After downing the rest of her coffee, she looked at him again. "Okay, you have that look on your face, what do you need to ask me?"

"That's...that's fucking scary, how well you read me," he told her. If she only knew how to read his mind, he thought, she'd be the frightened one. "Tomorrow...I want to paint the bedroom. Maybe rearrange the furniture. I can't...I can't sleep in there the way it is, it all just reminds me of..." he paused and rubbed a hand over his face. "It reminds of how great things were, once upon a time, and then how awful they were. It reminds me of the fighting, and the yelling, and how many nights I spent on the couch, and then how many nights I spent on your couch." He looked at Olivia, right into her eyes, trying to convey the deeper meaning behind his words. "I need things to be great again," he whispered to her, "So help me make them great, Liv? Please?"

She was frozen for a moment, a part of her reading too much into his question, seeing something in his eyes that shouldn't be there. She smiled, then, and nodded. She needed things for him and his children to be so much better than great, and she'd do anything to make it happen.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**

 ** _MarchCommaJo on Twitter_**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"It looks amazing in here," Olivia said with a somber smile as she pulled open the curtains, letting sunlight bathe the master bedroom. It seemed so long ago that the room held any brightness or happy memories, so she was glad to have had a day filled with making new ones with Elliot. "I love the way it looks with the bed angled like that, and the shade of the oak is just...well, it looks great." She shut up, not wanting to blather on as though she had any right to an opinion, since the room wasn't hers.

Elliot sighed audibly from his spot behind her. "This is, uh, kind of how I wanted it in the first place," he said with a shrug. "Kathy...she always made the executive decorating decisions." He laughed a bit, but then sighed again. "It's like...I miss her, but I don't feel like a widower. I'm not pining for her, or mourning the loss of the greatest love of my life. Does that make me a horrible person?"

She turned to look at him and shook her head. "Of course not," she said, stepping over to him. "Your family and friends knew you...had problems, and you kept telling me your feelings for her had changed since you met, and no one blames you for that." She shrugged and said, "You shouldn't feel guilty for not being able to feel something." She bit her lip and spoke, in a lower voice as though she was talking to herself. "You shouldn't feel guilty for feeling...the way that you do feel, either." She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, and then added, "You can't make yourself feel something if you don't, and no one has the right to try to make you feel something...that isn't there." She tried to smile at him, but she felt as though she looked like a bit sick and placating.

"God, I needed to hear that," he said with a strangled laugh. He looked around the room again and said, "It does look pretty amazing in here."

She laughed and said, "We'll have this place looking like a bachelor pad for you in no time." She gave him a playful punch to the shoulder.

"Oh, my God, please," he rolled his eyes and scratched at the back of his neck. "That's not what I want, at all." He looked at her and opened his mouth, a question hanging on his lips. "With your help, it's just going to look like...home. Liv, uh..." he paused, losing his nerve, and simply said, "Thanks for helping with this."

Her smile grew a bit brighter and she told him, "You know I'm always going to be here, right? I mean, you do know that, don't you?" She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "No matter what, whatever you need, always."

He nodded, opening his arms to her. When she slowly walked into him, he wrapped her up and closed his eyes. "That means more to me than you could ever possibly know." In that moment, he did something he'd never done before, and if you asked him, he wouldn't be able to tell you why. Not without sounding insensitive and foolish. He kissed the top of her head and pulled her even closer.

She stiffened in his arms, and for a moment, she regretted finally telling Casey Novak she would meet the attorney that had been hounding her for weeks. She only agreed to the blind date to get Casey off her back and put an end to the harassment. For a brief moment, she felt hopeful that something shifted between her and Elliot, but, sighing, she fell back into the belief that it was nothing more than his way of thanking her. A friendly gesture, the end. She pulled out of his unusually intimate embrace and gave him another smile. "It means...everything to me, too, El." She turned away from him and headed out of the bedroom, not even risking a glance over her shoulder.

She had barely made it down the stairs and into the living room when the front door swung open and all four Stabler kids clomped into the house. "Hey!" she said brightly. "How was school?"

Kathleen shot her a glare that could kill a small mammal. "Awful," she said. "Everyone tried to hug me, tell me how sorry they were...they're not sorry, they didn't even..."

"Katie," Maureen interrupted, resting a hand on her sister's shoulder. "It's okay. We were all uncomfortable today." She looked back up toward Olivia. "They lit a candle for Mom, during the morning mass, and everyone...everyone just stared at us." She looked away and let her hand fall off of Kathleen's shoulder. "I just...I just wanted it to be over. You know? I wanted things to go back to normal."

Olivia pulled the teen into her arms and said, "It'll get better. Maybe not easier, not...not much, but...better." She looked at Kathleen. "I felt the same way when my mom died." She let out a short, single snort. "Your father treated me like I was made out of glass for a week."

Maureen, still in Olivia's arms, looked up. "I remember," she said. "We were all...so worried about you. I remember wondering why you didn't cry at the funeral. Dad was so mad when you went right back to work with him afterward. He was worried about you. We...we all were."

"Oh, honey," Olivia sighed, pulling back. "My mother and I had a, um, rocky relationship. And I guess...part of me had prepared for her death a long time ago. It wasn't easy to deal with losing her, but I...I had lost her a long time before she died, in a lot of ways, and what I felt when she died...was more of a resignation that it was sadness." She smiled, then, trying to lighten the mood, and she winked at Maureen when she said, "Besides, I don't really cry too often to begin with."

"She's right," Elliot said, breaking his silence. He'd been in the doorway between Olivia's bedroom and the living room, listening, watching. "She didn't shed a tear when she was shot, and I freely admit that I shed a few tears the first couple of times I was." He moved closer to Olivia and looked into her eyes. "In fact, uh, I remember every, single time I've seen you cry. And the reasons were never, ever, about yourself."

Her eyes widened and she quickly looked away from him. "You guys hungry?" she said, abruptly changing the subject. She'd seen something strong in Elliot's eyes, just now, and it scared her shitless. "I've got ribs already in the oven."

Dickie's eyes lit up and he smiled wide. "Sticky ribs?"

"Oh, the stickiest," Olivia said, with a playful certainty. "Go change out of your uniforms and start your homework. I'll call you when dinner's ready." She watched as the four young sprites bounded up the stairs, out of view, and with the smile still on her face, she walked through the archway into the kitchen. She knew he was following her and she took a deep breath, knowing what was coming. "Don't," she said, holding up hand.

"I wasn't going to," he defended, taking a seat at the stool near the breakfast nook. "I was just...I don't want you to think I'm confused, or lonely, or...or that I'm trying to somehow fill the void in my life left by Kathy."

She turned to him, a question mark on her face, as she had one hand on the door to the refrigerator and the other holding a stick of butter. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He laughed, more at the flummoxed look on her face than anything. "Liv, come on," he said, shaking his head. "I know you can tell. Hell, I can tell, but I'm...there's so much going on, and I know in my heart what I'm feeling...is what I have felt for years, but my kids don't need to see me moving on like this. Not this fast."

"Who is she?" Olivia asked dryly, not having moved so much as a finger. "You're...what do you mean moving on?"

He lowered his voice to just above a whisper, his teeth gnashing around a bit of flesh from the inside of his cheek. "Us," he breathed. "Just now, in there, I know you...I can't help looking at you like that anymore than I can help having blue eyes. I didn't mean to scare you, is what I'm trying to say, here, but I wanted you to know that it...it did...does mean something." He held her gaze. "It'll mean a hell-of-a-lot more as soon as make sense of the chaos in my head and the mess I've made of my kids' lives."

Without so much as a nod of understanding, Olivia moved and unwrapped the butter, dropping it into the pot that had been sitting on the stove.

"Say something," he said, almost begging. "I just put everything out there like that, and you're just going to make some corn and forget I..."

"Okay," she said, finally, looking at him again.

He held his breath and sat up straight. "Okay?" he repeated, questioning. "What...okay, what?"

She took a breath and swallowed, and then found her voice. "Whenever you think you're ready to do what you...want to do, just...let me know. We'll talk about it, and we'll figure it out. But you're right, the focus, right now, needs to be on the kids, and you, and it's going to take time." She looked into his eyes, the ones he couldn't help being so very blue, and she said, "We have time, El."

"So, you feel..." he stopped to clear his throat. "I mean, you...yeah?"

"You said you could tell," she said, rolling her eyes. She began dropping halved cobs of corn into the pot of buttery water that was now boiling.

He laughed. "I thought I...I mean I hoped, but..." his nerves got the better of him. "So, okay, then. Something to look forward to," he said, rubbing his hands together. He smiled when he heard her laugh. "Oh, uh, Cragen called. I told him...I told him we'd go back to work tomorrow, as long as he lets us go by five. I told him I can't leave the kids alone for too long. Not...not yet."

She moved and took the seat beside him, reaching timidly for his hand. She grabbed it, and when he looked at her, her heart thumped against her chest. "I know," she said, nodding.

He curled his fingers around hers, and for the first time what seemed like ages, he felt certain that everything really was going to be okay. Now, though, he understood that if he wanted to keep things from falling apart again, he needed to keep himself together. He looked down, seeing Olivia's hand in his, and he relaxed. "Hold on, honey," he whispered, closing his eyes.

"Huh?" she asked, unable to hear him.

"Nothing," he lied, looking back up at her. "Nothing at all."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	6. Chapter 6

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

He woke up with a start, an unfamiliar sound hitting his ears and breaking into one of the most restful sleeps he'd had in a while. He rubbed his eyes as he tried to slow his ragged breathing, and he slid out of his bed and slipped into his Superman slippers, a gift from Olivia. He wandered downstairs, the voices and laughter growing louder. He met her eyes first, and a smile pulled at his lips. "What is going on down here?"

"Liv's helping us with our science fair project," Lizzie proclaimed with a bright smile and wide eyes hidden behind a pair of plastic safety goggles.

Dickie, with a mouth full of marshmallows, nodded vigorously and said something so muffled only he really understood it.

Elliot laughed as he walked over to them. He wasn't aware that he wrapped an arm around Olivia as he asked her, "What are you doing, exactly?"

She didn't realize his arm was gripping her tightly either, and she said, "Isn't it obvious? It's a marshmallow fluff volcano!"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you going to blow up my kitchen?" His fingers trailed up and down her hip, his voice got lower, and his smile grew wider.

She laughed, her nose crinkling under the rim of her plastic goggles. "No, no," she chuckled. "We already did a couple of test runs, and as long as they pour the baking soda into the top first, and then the vinegar, they'll be fine."

"If Dickie doesn't eat all of the lava before the judges even see the thing!" Lizzie griped, folding her arms as her brother dug a finger into the orange and red colored marshmallow.

"It's not my fault!" Dickie yelled, licking his fingers. "Science is delicious!"

Elliot laughed and shook his head. "Well, uh, you be sure to call and tell us..."

"You mean, you're not coming?" Lizzie interrupted, seeming upset and worried.

Elliot looked at his twins, and then turned his head toward Olivia. He grinned at the expression of her goggled face, and he asked, "What time is it?"

"The projects have to be set up in the gym by twelve, judging is at two, and the awards are after school. Four-thirty," she told him. She shrugged and said, "It's up to you, but I think we can swing getting off work an hour earlier. You know Cragen still has us on a short schedule."

Elliot bit his lip and nodded, and then turned back to look at his kids. He saw their eager faces, laughed at the ring of red and orange around his son's mouth, and said, "Okay, yeah. We'll be there." He looked around, then, and narrowed his eyes. "Did you eat already?"

"Ate, and cleaned up," Dickie said, wiping away the sticky good from the corners of his lips and licking it off of his fingers.

"And we loaded the dishwasher!" Lizzie added. "Homework is done, too. Except Maureen. I think she's forming a one-woman revolt against algebra."

Elliot chuckled and kissed her on the forehead. "Go get cleaned up and ready for bed, then," he paused and looked at his son. "Both of you."

"Okay," Lizzie said, first taking off her goggles, and then leaping off the stool and hugging her father. She moved from him to Olivia, giving her a tight hug, too. "Thanks, Liv," she sighed, smiling.

"Anytime, sweetie," she said, planting a soft kiss to the crown of the young blonde's head. She gave Dickie a hug, too, and then watched as the twins ran up the stairs. "I can feel you staring," she said, pulling her own goggles off and laying them at the base of the volcano. "It's annoying."

"Why didn't you wake me up?" he asked softly, his arm still hanging on her hips.

She exhaled, long and slow, and then looked at him. "You had a hard day. It was a rough case, and I knew...I knew how tired you were, so when you went up to take a nap, I just...let you sleep." She blinked.

"Amazing," he laughed, shaking his head. "You're amazing."

She shook her head, too, but in full negation of his sentiment. "I'm just...here, El. For anything. Everything. I told you that."

He nodded, kissed her temple, and moved away from her and toward the refrigerator. "What did you make for dinner?"

"Yours is in the microwave," she told him. "I had to put it aside, your kids came home hungry today." She chuckled as she opened the microwave door. "It's still warm."

He tilted his head. "You didn't."

"I did," she said with a slightly arrogant nod and a smirk. "Go ahead, Taste it and tell me how close I got."

He took the spoon out of her hands and looked down at the bowl with an eager anticipation. He dug into the chili and as soon as he put the spoonful into his mouth, his eyes widened. "Oh, my God, Liv," he garbled, wide-eyed. "This is amazing."

"Yeah?" she questioned, watching the different shades of blue swirl and mix in his eyes.

He nodded as he shoveled another bite into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. "Yours is better." He looked at her. "I didn't think it was possible."

"I added a couple of things," she told him with a shrug. "But the basics...I mean...that's your dad's chili, right?"

"Yeah, it is," he said with a full mouth and a light laugh. "So good," he mumbled, spooning some more. "I can't...you remembered, and it's just...amazing."

She smiled at the look on his face, enjoying the way he reacted and laughed. "Is it really that good?" she chuckled, swiping away some sauce from his chin and handing him a napkin.

He nodded as he laughed, ate some more, and then he said, "You always know." He looked up from his bowl and he stared into her eyes for a moment. "You just...always know."

"I wanted to make your day a little better, that's all," she said, turning away from him. "You used to tell me how much fun you had with him, camping. You'd help him make this in a small pot over an open fire." She chewed on her lip. "After watching you struggling through today...I wanted to bring up a happy memory for you. I can't stand...I can't stand to see you..." she stopped talking, shook her head, and turned away from him.

"Can't stand to see me what?" he asked, curious, as he finished his bowl of nostalgia. "Liv, talk to me, I...I know I dropped a pretty big bomb on you on Monday, but..."

"This has nothing to do with that," she interrupted. "You know, we talked about...talking about it, later, but I just..." she blew a breath out of thinly parted lips and ran her hand through her hair, pushing it back, before folding her arms. "I can't stand to see you sad. Or hurt. Or angry. And as your partner, it's my job to make sure you're always okay, and that means...emotionally, too." She gnawed on her lip again. "The minute Cragen said the vic's name this morning, I knew...It was it was going to have to be chili night."

He gave her a smile as he moved toward the dishwasher and set his bowl and spoon on the racks. "I, um, I didn't even think you were listening to me when I told you what he put in the chili."

"I always listen to you," she said softly. "Even when you don't say anything."

He turned to her, a perplexed expression on his face. "How the hell could you...I mean, is that even possible?"

"I listen...to the way you breathe." She was staring at a tile on the back-splash, behind the sink, as she spoke. As if mesmerized and unaware she was talking. "If you're sighing a lot, it means something's on your mind, but you don't want to talk about it. If you're angry, you breathe harder, faster. If you're calm and happy, it's slow, even..." she shook her head. "I listen to the way you walk, and the way you type. You know, when you're pissed, you bang on the keys like The Incredible Hulk and slam your drawers shut. You crack your knuckles when you're nervous, and you...you make these little...I don't know...moaning sounds...when you're sleeping." She cleared her throat and suddenly went white, realizing she said all of that, out loud, to Elliot. "So, yeah, I listen to you."

He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time all over again. His bottom lip trembled and his nostrils twitched with the burning need to make him cry. "Liv," he whispered, reaching for her hand. He took hold of it, relaxing a bit when she didn't pull it away. "I thought it was just me," he barely whispered. "I...I can tell, all of that, with you." He looked up and laughed spitefully. "Shit, I couldn't tell you what Kathy did when she was angry, other than throw my ass out onto the couch. I used to, though. I used to...I used to know what she was feeling by the look in her eyes, but..." He choked back a sob and squeezed Olivia's hand tighter. "I forgot. I just...stopped paying attention to her and started memorizing you, and now she's...gone. Just...gone...and I feel so guilty, because the last thing I said to her...the last conversation I had with her was about divorce. If I came home, again, and it didn't work, again..." He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, a tear running down his right cheek. He felt her thumb swipe it away and he opened his eyes.

"She knew you loved her," she whispered to him. "She loved you, too. It may not have been the kind of love it was, twelve years ago, but you still loved each other, and it's because of that love that you were willing to give it another shot, and you were going to go through with the divorce, because you owed it to yourselves, to each other, to be happy, and hold onto the respect you had for each other. So, please, don't beat yourself up over..."

"She knew I was in love with you," he whispered with shaking words, cutting her off.

She froze. "What?"

He nodded slowly. "She knew...I think, before I did, and she was trying to tell me...she was trying to push me away so I would figure it out. I just didn't believe..." he licked his lips and gave her hand another squeeze before turning his red eyes back to meet hers. "I believe it now, though." He nodded and shifted his weight and shook his head a bit. "Do you?"

She nodded softly, and then ran her hand across his cheek again. "Like you said," she whispered with a smile, "When it's right, we'll talk." She cleared her throat and took a breath. "Until then, we'll just...do what we always do."

"Ignore it?" Elliot asked, almost irritated. "I'm not fucking ignoring it, it's the only thing that's made any sense in my life since..."

"El," she broke in, one hand still in his and the other on his shoulder, squeezing, "I was just going to say, we deal with it, and we let it grow, and we just...be. Us. You and me. Benson and Stabler." She searched his eyes. "Breathe."

He nodded and pulled her into him, wrapping both of his arms around her. "I'm breathing," he told her. Pushing back a bit, he looked at her and shrugged. "Because of you."

She shook her head. "No, because of those four mini-versions of you that are upstairs." She let herself fall away from him completely, and she folded her arms again. "I just make the air a little clearer," she said with a wink.

He laughed, all traces of his momentary sadness now gone. He opened his mouth to say something else, but her phone rang and stopped him.

"Sorry," she said, pulling it out of her pocket. She rolled her eyes and answered it. "Hey, Casey," she said, giving Elliot a pained expression. "Um...Thursday? Uh...yeah, yeah. Fine. No promises, though. I have, um, ya know, I have priorities and I'm only doing this so you stop trying to..." she paused and eyed Elliot. "Okay, yeah. Great. Bye." She hung up and exhaled slowly, wondering if agreeing to meet a new guy would mean the death of what she hoped was building with Elliot, or if the hope was lost anyway.

"What was that about?" he asked, his brows knitted.

She shook her head. "Nothing, nothing, I just...agreed to go somewhere with her," she said. Not a lie. Not the truth. "Your kids are expecting bedtime stories and goodnight kisses, so...you should..."

"We should," he said without thinking. He saw the shock in her eyes and he bit his lip as he said, "We've...we've shared a bed before, Liv. I just..." he closed his eyes. "This is going to sound so pathetic." He took a breath and closed his eyes. "I don't want to be alone in that room tonight." He opened his eyes and waited.

"I don't really feel like being alone tonight, either," she said softly, reaching for his hand.

He took it, gratefully, and led her up the stairs, knowing when he woke up crying in the middle of the night, she would be there to make the pain go away. Or maybe, being with her tonight would keep him from feeling any pain at all.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**

 ** _MarchCommaJo on Twitter_**


	7. Chapter 7

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

He sat alone in the squad room, lost in thought, staring at a frame of nothingness on the stucco wall. He had a ponderous look on his face, half-lidded eyes, and his pen drummed absently against the metal surface of his desk. "Chocolate-covered espresso beans," he mumbled to himself.

"What?" her voice broke into his deep daze, and she held out a cardboard cup of coffee to him. "You know, they have those at Starbucks, if you wanted them..."

"Huh?" he asked, finally snapping out of his stupor and turning to look at her. He gratefully took the cup from her and nodded as he sipped. "I was just..." he paused, his eyes traveling over the terrain of her body, over the hills and valleys of her breasts and hips, the long lengths of her legs and back upward to her perfectly pouted lips and the eyes he'd been trying to find words to describe. They were too brown to be chocolate alone, too light to be black-coffee, so he'd settled on chocolate-covered espresso beans, their varying shades swirling and darkening toward her pupils. "Nothing," he said, his throat dry. He took another large gulp of his coffee.

"You okay?" she asked, settling her own cup down on her desk and taking off her coat. She tossed it over her chair and plopped down, tilting her head.

He hummed and nodded. "You get anything from the mother?"

"Other than a headache?" she quipped, raising an eyebrow at him. "Nada." She folded her arms out on the desk in front of her and leaned over. "You sure you're okay?"

He smiled at her, noticing the intense red color of her shirt seemed to make her skin more purely porcelain than tan, but yet somehow giving her a warmth and glow. He cleared his throat and said, "I'm fine," and winked at her.

She turned her head slightly, narrowing her eyes just a bit in response. Was she seeing things? Did he really just wink at her? "Sure, okay," she said with a skeptical chuckle. "Tucker show up, yet?"

"No," Elliot said, his eyes rolling and the light mirth fading away. He slumped lower in his seat and tossed his pen onto the desk. "Three hours. I haven't gone anywhere, done anything besides answer the fucking phone...in three fucking hours." He looked up at the clock. "I can't even leave until he gets his ass up here and clears this mess up."

Olivia shrugged, giving him a small grin. "Oh, how very sorry I am to hear that you got to sit here and do nothing but breathe for the last three hours." She laughed at the look on his face and said, "I'd, um, I'd much rather be here doing nothing with you then out there with Fin."

"If you were here," he said to her, "I wouldn't be complaining about it." He returned her laugh and handed her a thick folder. "You're back now, you can help me with this."

Her eyes widened and she scoffed. "Oh, really?" she said, feigning annoyance. She took the file and shook her head. "Three hours to yourself and you still haven't caught up on your paperwork." She clicked her tongue and opened the folder, reviewing the notes and signing his name. "This isn't forgery," she said, almost under her breath, as if trying to convince herself of the fact. "You're right there, so..."

"I know, you can sign my name almost better that I can," he chuckled. "I'm telling you, now, don't bother trying. All the cards are maxed out."

She laughed again. "If I was going to steal anything from you, I would have done it already." She narrowed her eyes and looked up at him, then, realizing something. "You sign my name perfectly, too, you know. I got less than shit, so..."

"Hardy, har," he interrupted dryly, rolling his eyes. "It'll come in handy eventually." He watched those beautiful eyes flicker and a small grin slip over her lips. He took a deep breath, looked back at the clock, and gave her a sad sigh. "Look, it's almost five, why don't you go home, one of us needs to be there for the kids, you know?"

Her throat closed up as she stared at him with wide eyes. He said 'home.' Not 'his place,' 'my house,' or anything of the sort, but he referred to it as home. Her home, with him. At least, in her desperate ears that's how it sounded. "Yeah," she said meekly, nodding once. "Um, what do...what do you want me to make for dinner?" She cringed as the words left her mouth. She sounded so presumptuous, but yet nothing felt more right than thinking of her life intertwining with his. She blinked, waiting for his answer, and as she took in his thoughtful eyes and noticed his lip catching between his teeth, she felt her heart pound. She'd spent the last two nights in his bed, almost ending up in his arms, and tonight, after spending time with his kids and cooking for him, cleaning for him, living for him, she would be wasting the night on a man she'd never met and a friend she almost hated at the moment. She shook away the thoughts and blinked again. "Well?"

He laughed, smiled brightly, and said, "Surprise me." He watched her roll her eyes and grab her jacket, and as his eyes appreciatively followed her out of the squad room, he nodded smugly to himself. If everything went to plan, he would be the one surprising her tonight.

Beyond the walls, Olivia slapped the call button for the elevator, trying like hell to come up with a valid excuse for cancelling on Casey and the man she claimed was "perfect for you, Liv." Rolling her eyes, she stepped through the doors and let her head drop back against the elevator wall.

She chided herself, almost to the point of loathing, and scoffed at the thoughts in her head. If anything more was going to happen, it would have happened within the last two days, since she went with him to the science fair at the kids' school and felt closer to him than ever. Since they began sharing his bed, physical boundaries being dissolved by restless legs and needy hearts.

The ding of the elevator broke into her thoughts and goaded her into the lobby. She waved to people, though their faces never registered, and she walked on autopilot toward the curb. She thought, only for a moment, about heading toward her apartment but she sighed and raised her left hand, shoving her right in her pocket. The odds of getting a cab at this time of day were slim, but she didn't cherish the idea of taking subways and trains during the early evening rush.

She sighed in both relief and regret as a yellow taxi pulled up for her. She wanted to go and stay, be there for the kids yet stay here for Elliot. She got in and she rattled off the address as soon as she sat down.

"Nice neighborhood," the driver said with a turned-down smirk. He drove off, leaving Olivia alone with her thoughts again.

 **That night, after dinner...**

The kids helped clear the table, the dishwasher was loaded and started, and the barely audible sounds of footfalls and creaking beds could be heard from above as Elliot and Olivia sat on the couch. Olivia had been struggling to breathe ever since Elliot told her they needed to talk. Her lip was stuck between her teeth, a portion of it turning white from the bite.

"So, uh," Elliot began with a sigh, turning to face her as he scooted back into the corner of the sofa, "I meant what I said."

She nodded, a little too quickly, and said, "I'll make it again. The kids thought it was good, too."

He squinted and shook his head, baffled at how she could misinterpret him so awfully when she knew him so well. "I meant...what I said about us, me and the kids, only surviving these last two months because of you." He felt a lump forming in the back of his throat and his fingers itched with the need to touch her. He moved one arm, one hand, and his right fingertips started to graze the surface of her left arm. "Before that, for me, too, you know. Everything with Kathy, the separation, you...when I thought I was losing my kids, and when I thought I was losing my job..." he narrowed his eyes and tried to bore deeper into hers. "You put everything on hold, because I needed you. Even tonight..."

"I told you you don't have to thank me," she interrupted, ignoring the spattering of goose-bumps and trail of electricity his fingers were leaving in their wake. "We didn't need to have an entire conversation about..."

"Will you shut up?" he laughed, moving himself closer to her. His hand moved, slipping across the expanse of her back and dragging low between her shoulder blades, tracing the ridges of her spine over and over. He marveled at the feel of her muscles beneath the red sweater and, briefly, he wondered how much softer her bare skin would feel under his touch. "I told you, when I was ready to...give you everything I got...that we would talk." He caught her eyes again. "That is...what this is." He lowered his head and bit his lip for a second. "You had that date."

"I didn't want to go," she said, rolling her eyes. "I haven't...I never really wanted to go, but...things with us, I wasn't sure if you were serious, if you'd changed your mind when you gained a little more composure, or if you only thought you were feeling things because you didn't want to be alone...because you needed something to hold onto."

One of his legs shifted, pushing up under one of hers, and he kicked quickly, popping her knee. He grabbed her shin and laid her leg out over his lap, and then nodded for her to lift her other leg for him. Once she was splayed over him, he started smoothing his hands up and down her thighs, his eyes perfectly still and open, trained on hers. "I don't want to be alone, and I do need to hold onto something. You." He blinked only once. "My feelings for you...haven't changed in years, only got more intense, stronger than anything, and being with you...you staying with me, with the kids, for the last eight and a half weeks...it made me understand, it made everything so fucking clear."

She tried not to moan, not to whimper, but the pressure he began putting into his kneading made her tense muscles cry and scream, and sigh in relief. "I realized a lot, too," she told him.

"Yeah?" he questioned. "Like what?"

She rolled her eyes as his hands squeezed a particularly pleasurable pattern into her calves. "You might not want to..."

"Just tell me," he said, cutting her off, grinning.

With a deep breath, she said, "I realized that, even if I went on this date tonight, if I let Casey introduce me to whatever-his-name-is, who could be a great guy for all I know...and even if I had a nice time with him, it wouldn't have lead to much." She hesitated a moment before taking the chance and speaking again. "And I realized...why."

He grabbed her ankles and pulled lightly, forcing her body to slide over further, until she was sitting full in his lap. "Why?" he barely whispered, his nose a nano-meter from hers, his lips trembling against her own twitching mouth.

Swallowing back the surprised yelp that begged to be born, she let a shaky breath escape and said, "Because I'm already in a relationship. One that...one that makes no fucking sense, but the only thing that makes any at all. The most wildly wrong...but so fucking right...I'm already in love with..."

"Me," he whispered against her lips. "Please, tell me you're talking about me," he begged breathlessly.

Her senses numbed, all except her vision, which was supersonic in this moment, seeing truth in his eyes and eagerness in his face, seeing worry and anxiety rolling off of his body with waves of heat and pleading excitement. She moved, a centimeter, a hair away from tasting the certainty on his lips.

Moving his hands again, laying one against her back and pressing one to her chest, he let out a nervous chortle. "I think we're both having heart attacks."

She laughed, but snapping synapses caused tears to build in her eyes. She nodded fast, again, and looked into his eyes. "El, I'm not...you have to..." she paused for sobriety. "This needs to be...you."

He held her gaze for a long moment, unblinking, unmoving, stoic and severe. The thud of his heart against his rib cage physically hurt, and he honestly believed he was teetering on the edge of death, but once again, she could save him. She would save him. He finally let himself fall forward, dissolving the slip of space between her and him, his lips landing on hers with the most fervid and impassioned moan he'd ever uttered.

Her hands flew to the back of his head, keeping him against her, not willing to let this moment end any time soon. She returned his ardent cries as her mouth caught more of his moans, and with what little time between kisses there was, she whispered his name.

Cupping her face, his fingers caught her tears and brushed them away, despite his own eyes welling up and threatening to overflow. He could feel the kick-drum in her chest rivaling the beating in his own, and if hearts could explode, he truly believed that now would be the moment two of them did.

Time ceased to exist, the room melted and crumbled around them, they were lost to the world. Nothing mattered, nothing remained, there was nothing of any importance but each other, this kiss, and the tremendous shift in the universe it caused.

Only because his lungs began to hurt as much as his chest, he pulled back, panting. His forehead stayed pressed against hers, his eyes shut, and he held her in his arms as his tears finally fell.

Crying along with him, she rubbed her nose against his, garnering his attention, and kissed him, short and sweet pecks of her lips against his, over and over, as she said his name softly.

"Liv," he wheezed, his lungs caving in and his heart finally cracking, "Please...I..." and then he choked on a loud sob, muffled by his lips against her chest.

She slid her hands from the back of head to the sides of his face, lifted his heat slightly, and nudged him with her nose to make him open his eyes. Looking into them, she sniffled and smiled, and then she said, "What?"

He smiled back at her and let his head fall against hers again. His eyes closed and the sigh that blew out of him released a house-blend of strong emotion. He tightened his hold on her, finally realizing their synchronized heartbeats were slowing and softening. "I hate to ask...I feel like I've asked too much of you already..."

She shook her head adamantly and before he finished talking she spat out, "Anything. What?"

His eyes didn't open, he moved his head upward only an inch and placed three small kisses on her chin. "I need you..." he stopped, letting the weight of his words hit her, the truth of them sink into himself. "And I need you...to do me a favor."

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	8. Chapter 8

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"I can't feel my face," Olivia complained, pressing her gloved fingertips into the sides of her cheeks. "Seriously, I can't."

Elliot laughed at her, his own hands in his pockets to keep the chill of the freezer at bay. "Can we, uh, move this along, Melinda? You're gonna have two more bodies to poke and prod if we don't get out of here."

Melinda Warner looked up at him with a scoff and turned up eyes. "I'm sorry I'm not going fast enough for you. The body is frozen, it makes things a bit more complicated, Detective."

Olivia rolled her eyes as she shivered and moved closer to Elliot, for warmth as well as professionalism. "What can you tell us?"

The medical examiner blew out a puff of hot air, ignoring the white fog that appeared as a result. "I can't get a sold TOD for obvious reasons, but there's ligature marks on her neck, and she was raped. There are fluids, but the sample is, um, frozen."

"And when you defrost it, any hope of getting DNA?" Elliot asked, rocking on his heels to keep his circulation flowing.

Melinda shrugged. "There's a fifty-fifty chance," she said. "I just don't understand how this...how this is your primary crime scene. I can barely move in here, so how did this happen?" She looked down at the body and shook her head. "That's your job to figure out, not mine." With a raised eyebrow she looked back up at Elliot. "I'll let you know what I find, as soon as I find it."

"Thanks," Olivia said, turning around quickly and rushing toward the door of the industrial freezer. She swayed past sides of beef and dodged swinging meat hooks as she ran eagerly toward what she hoped would be higher temperature. Sighing in relief as the heat of the night hit her, she looked over her shoulder toward Elliot. "That was a first," she said, still shivering slightly.

He hummed in agreement, pinching the fabric of Olivia's jacket and pulling her closer to him. "Nice to know we still get a few 'firsts,' huh?" He shared a small laugh with her, and sighed. "Thank you," he said, his tone serious and his words not conveying the depth of his meaning. "I just..."

"Don't," she stopped him, shaking her head. "You knew when you asked that I would, without question. You didn't even have to ask me, not the way you did." She took off her gloves as they made their way to the car. "It wasn't a favor, not really. It was something I would have done...even if you didn't ask." She bit her lip, getting into the passenger seat. She watched as Elliot walked around the car and got in, settling behind the wheel. "But how long are we talking? My rent is due on the..."

"Liv," his voice broke as he said her name, tense emotion threatening to spill forth if he couldn't suppress it. "Really? Come on." He squeezed his eyes shut, stopping the looming tears, and sniffled once as he pulled away from the curb. "I thought I made that clear...when I asked."

She nodded and turned her head, choosing to stare out the window than over-analyze the subtleties in his face. She was so good at seeing things that weren't there, and misjudging things that were. "You did, I just...are you sure?"

He nodded, knowing she couldn't see him but not trusting his voice just yet. He drove in silence, feeling his lungs fill with air that, to him, felt cleaner, clearer than it had before, and a comfortable smile graced his lips when he realized why. "I know...I know I've been needy, and desperate, and...I needed you to know why, when I asked you to stay with me." He blinked.

"I know why," she replied, looking at him. Her eyes turned upward and she smiled back at him, giving him a soft laugh. "I can't deny it, or hide it, or...well, I can't run from it." She leaned her head back as she noticed the look that flashed across his face. "Not that I would want to do any of that, El."

He visibly relaxed and turned the wheel again, taking them toward the station. He veered into the parking lot, found his space, and stopped the car, and then turned to really look at her. "You all warmed up?"

She made a pensive face, playfully pondering his question. "I could be warmer," she said, shooting him a wink.

Without a moment of hesitation, he leaned over the console and brought his hands to her cheeks. "I will always keep you warm," he whispered, looking into her eyes. "Safe and warm." He nodded at her once and moved that last inch, kissing her. His hands swept backward, filtering into her hair and tangling in her curls. He tipped her head back as he deepened the kiss, marking her soul with his brand, solidifying what had only been tentative until last night. He pulled away slowly, licking his lips, unwilling to give up the taste of her so soon.

Her eyes fixed on his, an expression of sheer surprise and wonder on her face. "Wow," she whispered, laughing. Her bottom lip was scraped through her teeth as her head swiveled back and forth slowly, part of her truly astounded by the power his kiss held.

"Exactly," he said, taking a breath and looking down at his hands. "I don't...I don't know how to do this, so if I make an ass out of myself, or do something..."

"You're pretty damn good at loving me," she interrupted. "That's all you need to do to get this right." Her hand met his cheek and her fingers brushed gingerly against his skin. She gasped slightly when he turned and kissed her hand before getting out of the car.

He pressed his lips together as he slammed the door behind him and walked as fast as he could into the station. Rubbing his eyes, he cursed at himself under his breath. He hated feeling so broken, and until he got a solid handle on his emotions, he needed to keep her from catching his moments of weakness. He felt as though he imposed on her and her life enough without making her pity him. He loved her, with everything he had, and he knew she needed him as much as he needed her, and he couldn't be the focus of every minute they spent together.

"What the hell," she breathed heavily, catching up to him and grabbing his elbow. She spun him around and glared at him. "You okay?"

He nodded quickly, biting his lip again. He pushed the call button for the elevator a couple of times, refusing to look at her.

Angling her brows almost painfully, she gave him another hard yank, demanding he turn to face her. "You don't get to do this, Elliot," she whispered harshly, gritting her teeth. "What happened to us, between us, last night means that if you need to cry, you do it in front of me. If you need to hit something, or throw things, or if you feel like doing the fucking Polka stark naked, you do it, and you don't hid it from me."

He let out a small chortle, laughing through his forming tears, and he nodded. "I know, I just...you don't need to see me..."

"I need to see you," she said, stopping him and running her hand up and down his arm. "At your worst, and your best, and everything in between." She leaned closer to him. "If you think I'm going to deny you the right to make sense of everything that you're feeling, you're out of your mind. You lost...you lost your wife. You're dealing with a thousand things I can't even pretend to understand. But you asked me to stay with you last night, you said you needed me to keep you from self-destructing, and God damn it, Elliot, I'm going to, but you can't..."

"I know," he breathed, interrupting her. He nodded, pressing his lips together, and he wrapped one of his around her wrist, prying it off of his arm and pulling her into the elevator. "I guess I...God, I don't even know why I got so emotional back there, and I don't...I don't want to cry anymore. I'm trying to let myself believe I deserve to be happy, and you...God, you make me so fucking happy. That's why I...I didn't want you think I was weak, or that I was regretting..."

She pressed a finger to his lips, stopping him from saying anything else. "You are the strongest man I have ever known," she whispered. "And I believed you when you told me you wanted this. Us. I know you don't regret what's happening, here, because I don't. I never will."

Again, he left her dumbstruck when he pursed his lips and kissed the pad of her finger, grabbed her hand, and pulled it down, away from his face. "Neither will I," he breathed. "Because this is it, isn't it? It...it has to be."

She nodded and smiled at him, but moved back and straightened up as the doors opened. She gave him a warning glare, but winked at him, a gleam hidden in her eyes. "I think Elliot and I have finally defrosted," she said as she walked into the squad room. "That was the weirdest damn call I ever went out on."

Fin laughed, then looked at Elliot. "How you holding up, man? You get that bullshit with Tucker straightened out?"

"Yeah," Elliot answered, throwing his jacket over the back of his chair. "Thanks."

Munch peered at him over his wire-framed glasses and said, "You surprised the shit out of him. He was expecting you to fall apart, given your...well, with what happened."

Elliot rolled his eyes and leaned against the side of Olivia's desk. Folding his arms, he said, "Oh, trust me. I would have if it hadn't been for my...partner." He sent a glance over his shoulder at her and smiled warmly, the remnants of his panic attack faded away and all but forgotten.

She returned his adoring look, but turned her attention toward the opening oak door at the front of the room. She watched Cragen plod out into the middle of the bullpen, and he looked around at his team, taking in their anticipatory faces before giving a pointed nod toward Olivia. "You two," he said, gesturing between her and Elliot, "The body in the freezer? Can we kick it up to..."

"No," Elliot said, shaking his head and sighing. "Melinda found evidence of sexual assault. It's ours."

"I was afraid of that," Cragen said, exhaling as he rubbed his hand over his forehead. "We got an ID yet?"

Olivia shook her head. "Warner said she'd call as soon as she found out anything," she said. "Why, what's the problem?"

Cragen blinked at her. "Another body, another freezer," he sighed as he handed Olivia a small piece of paper. "Go."

Olivia took it, rolling her eyes. She stood up, walked over to her locker, and pulled it open. She grabbed a grey hooded sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. Smoothing it out, she looked at Elliot, seeing his smirk. "What?"

He chuckled and said, "Nothing, Liv." He grabbed his coat and keys and nodded at her. "Let's go."

She followed him out, shooting a quick glance at the clock. Her heart leaped at the thought of being home with him and the kids in just a few hours, but it thudded hard against her chest when she realized, for the first time, it really was home now.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	9. Chapter 9

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"Liv, how do you say, 'My brother ate my homework' in Spanish?" Maureen asked, glaring at her little brother angrily.

Laughing as she worked a wooden spoon around a frying pan, she said, "Mi hermano comió mi tarea." Then, realizing, she turned around sharply and looked at the kids, who were sitting on the stools by the breakfast nook, doing their homework. "What? Why?"

Maureen, her lips pressed together tightly, folded her arms. "Dickie slobbered all over my essay! I can't hand it in like this! Senora Guerro will have a fit!"

Dickie rolled his eyes. "Drama queen," he said. "Liv, I just spilled my water on it, I didn't try to eat it, and look, it's dry already!"

Liv shook her head and chuckled, and then turned back to the sauteing onions and peppers. "We're all good then."

"How do you use 'rapturously' in a sentence?" Kathleen asked, sticking the end of her pen in her mouth and looking reverently at Olivia.

Olivia threw sliced sausage into the pan, stirred a bit, and then turned to the children again. "What is something that you enjoy doing?"

"Opening Christmas presents," Dickie said with a gasp and ecstatic grin. "And collecting bugs!"

Kathleen threw her pen cap at him. "Weirdo," she said snidely. "Um, well...this." She slumped over a bit. "I enjoy this. All of us, together, you...helping us with our homework, and cooking." She sighed and dropped her pen to the counter top. "When do you and Daddy have to go back to working all night?"

Olivia looked at the dejected fifth grader. "Oh, honey," she said, moving over toward the kids. She rested one hand on Maureen's shoulder and looped her other arm around Kathleen. "Soon," she said, "But, I promise, we will all have breakfast together every morning we can, and weekends...weekend are ours. Or, um, yours. Yours and your father's."

Maureen looked up at Olivia. "You were right the first time," she said softly. "We like being with you, too, Liv. It almost...you just sometimes remind me of..." She let her head drop into Olivia's side. "I miss her."

"I know you do, sweetie," Olivia whispered back, bending to kiss the top of her head. "I know." She brushed the twelve year old's hair back and let out a breath. She looked back at Kathleen and said, "You wouldn't do homework rapturously. Think more along the lines of your brother's Christmas present idea." She smiled and winked, reached over and ruffled Dickie's hair. "You guys should wash up for dinner, it won't be long."

"Okay, Liv," Lizzie shouted, piling her school things up and slipping away from the counter with a hop. The other followed her, heading upstairs chattering and chuckling.

Olivia let out yet another sigh as she watched them go, and then went back to the stove to finish the sausage and peppers. She lost herself in thought as she seasoned and stirred, and she didn't hear Elliot stepping up behind her.

"Amazing," he whispered into her ear. He jerked back when she jumped, but he put both of hands on her hips and said, "Easy. It's just me."

One hand over her chest, she nodded. "Christ," she spat, swatting him in the chest. "Make a noise or something, next time."

Elliot ran his hands up and down a few times, sliding over her sides, and he looked into her eyes. "I, uh, I heard that. All of it. You know, you're not missing out on the fun on the weekends."

She laughed and nodded. "I just didn't want them to think...I'm trying to take their mother's place, and I'm not trying to insert myself into their lives if it's not what they want." She let her hands fall, wrapping around his arms. "If they ever need time with you, alone, I'll take a hike."

Elliot kissed the end of her nose, and then her forehead. "No one wants you to take a hike," he said, "Unless we were all taking one with you. That's actually a good idea, we should go hiking this weekend."

Olivia laughed, thinking he was only saying it to make her feel better. "Dinner's almost ready." She turned around, feeling his arms linger.

He moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder as she finished off the meal and turned off the heat. "Smells wonderful," he said, moaning softly and breathing deeply again, his head buried in her neck. "You do, too."

She thwapped him in the head with a potholder and laughed, trying to maneuver around the stove while staying in his arms. She discovered she loved being there, and the longer she could stay, the happier she was. "Back up," she said, slipping her hand into the mitt and grabbing the pan's handle. She set down a trivet and placed the pan on top, and then looked over her shoulder with a quirked eyebrow. "You know, you're making this really..."

He stopped her speaking with a kiss. He tightened his hold on her, spinning her a bit, until she was pressed against him. He let his tongue slide lightly along the seam of her lips, begging for admission to the rest of her mouth. He moaned, half in relief and half in desperation, when she let him in and wrapped her arms around his neck. He could feel his heart hitting against his chest and, for a moment, he wondered if she could feel it against hers. He moaned again, one hand creeping up her back and hooking around the back of her neck, his fingertips extending and pressing against the back of her head, tangling up in her hair. Unsure how, if he even consciously made the choice, he lifted her up a bit, literally sweeping her off of her feet, and he mumbled something against her lips that only made sense in his own head.

She nodded anyway, murmuring his name and something else in return, her fingertips digging into the flesh under his shoulder blades. After another long moment, she had to pull back, but she rested her head against his as she struggled to catch her breath. "The kids are gonna..."

"Yeah, I know," he panted, his lips burning and tingling. He knew they were red now, chapped, but he needed so badly to kiss her again. He flicked his wrist hard, lifting her head and forcing her mouth back against his for another long, searing kiss. He pulled away from her, though, when he head the first instance of creaking on the stairs. He took a deep breath and took a step away from her, but still he stared into her eyes. She couldn't deny it now. No one could.

She licked her own swollen lips and as the kids rushed into the living room she said, "Plates. Forks. The...the bread and...if you want butter." She pointed, though her hand was shaking, to the refrigerator and tried to regain composure. Taking another slow, deep breath, she turned to look down at the pan filled with browned sausage, peppers, and onions, and she tried to recall how she even learned to make it.

Elliot opened a drawer and pulled out a large metal ladle, handing it to Olivia. He held out a plate to her as he bent over and kissed her temple.

A shiver ran up her spine as she scooped a helping onto the plate, and then she picked up two small rolls and set them on the edge of the dish. She laughed as Elliot jabbed a piece of sausage with a fork and she carried the food over to the table, setting it down in front of Lizzie. She and Elliot shared the task of doling out the rest of the meals, and then finally sat down together, both smiling.

"Oh," Elliot said, before taking a single bit of his dinner, "The entire reason I went looking for you in the kitchen..." he leaned closer and lowered his voice, "Besides my constant need to be near you," he said with a wag of his eyebrows, "Your landlord called."

"Did he?" she replied, playing dumb as she tore open her roll to make a sandwich out of her sausage and peppers. She knew the landlord called. And she knew why.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "He said you can pick up your security deposit return tomorrow, and he told me to thank you for keeping the place in perfect condition." He stared at her for a moment. "You moved out? So you're staying, with me? With us?"

She looked at him, then, her eyes unblinking, still and quiet. It was enough to answer him.

"Thank you," he breathed, smiling, and he winked at her as he finally put his full forkful of food into his mouth. He let out a satisfied moan as he nodded and eagerly went in for another bite, thinking of a way to pay her back for everything she had done, and was still doing. It would take work, but he'd do it.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	10. Chapter 10

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"Dad?" Kathleen called softly, seeing him in the hallway on the way to her room. She had a question for him, and it couldn't wait.

"What are you doing up?" he asked, narrowing his eyes but smiling. "Something wrong?"

"No," the girl said, shaking her head. "I was just in the bathroom, but I..." She paused. "After dinner, when you were helping Liv with the dishes, did you...did I see what I think I saw?"

The color drained from Elliot's face, his heart pounded a bit harder. "What do you think you saw?" he asked, folding his arms.

Kathleen sighed and blinked a few times. "Did you kiss her?"

Elliot couldn't answer her. He was ready to take the next step, albeit a small one, with Olivia. More than ready. But how could he say that to his daughter? "Um, Katie, honey, I don't think..."

"Yes or no?" Kathleen said. She looked down at her bare feet, curling them into the carpet. "I'm not mad. I'm not upset. I'm just...is it because you miss mom? Because you're lonely? If that's the case, then for the love of God, Dad, don't do that to Liv."

"Oh," Elliot breathed, closing his eyes. "Honey, that's not...I would never do that to her. Yeah, I kissed her. She, uh, she kissed me. We kissed."

Kathleen chuckled at her father's nervous explanation. "I know," she said. "Why?" She needed to hear him say it, so she wouldn't hate him. Or Olivia.

Elliot looked at his daughter for a long moment, biting his lip and thinking of how to say what he needed to say, hoping it wouldn't sound awful. "Liv and I...we, um...have...feelings."

"And those feelings would be...?" Kathleen prodded. Part of her got a kick out of the rise she was getting out of him, but there was a bigger part of her that hoped he'd say what she wanted to hear.

"There's been something...a lot of things," he began awkwardly, "For years. We're just...finally figuring it all out, and...she's going to be staying here for a while longer, while we do that."

Kathleen nodded, her face falling into an expression of solemn acceptance. "Okay," she whispered. "Good, then. That's what...what I wanted to know." She shot a look toward his bedroom door. "She's in there, isn't she?"

"Nothing like that...it's not there yet. We aren't," he told her, waving his hands around wildly, flailing. "But yes. She is."

Kathleen nodded again. "Tell her I said good night and that..." she swallowed hard and took a breath. "I love you, Daddy." She stood up on her tip-toes to give him a kiss on the cheek and turned back toward her bedroom.

Letting out the tension-filled breath he was holding, he, too, headed into his bedroom. What he saw when he entered took his breath away entirely. She was sitting up, on the edge of the bed, running a brush through her hair. The partly opened window let in a breeze that swept the shoulder length locks around her face and made her sleep-shirt billow a bit. He couldn't help thinking that, at this moment, she was more beautiful than ever.

He took a few steps closer to her, slowly reaching his hands out. He grabbed the brush from her and sat beside her, and with as soft a touch as he could manage, he took over. He brushed her hair back, smoothing it with his other hand, letting his fingers tangle in the waves.

"Thanks," she whispered, but it was more of a gasp. No one had ever done this, and she had to admit she loved it. Her eyes closed again, and when his short nails scraped over her scalp and rubbed into her skin, she moaned a bit. "Feels good," she mumbled.

He laughed and bent his head, kissing the back of hers. He dropped the brush to the mattress and held her hair in one hand, in a ponytail. He tapped her on the shoulder with his other hand.

Knowing what he wanted, she held up a hair elastic. She felt him take it from between her fingers and she chuckled again when he wrapped it around her hair for her.

"I have four daughters," he told her softly, now letting his hands run down her shoulders and arms. "I can do a mean French braid, too."

She laughed again and turned to look at him. "That's sweet," she said, her eyes brightening as they landed on his. "You're an amazing father." Her hand rested on his knee, and she gave it a squeeze. "That's the best part of you. The daddy."

He smiled at her, tilting his head. "It's what I'm most proud of," he told her. He moved toward her, his lips pressing into hers, and his arms coiled around her waist. He pulled her closer, swiped his tongue across her lips, and moaned when she opened for him.

She looped her hands around his neck, moaning his name into his mouth. She felt him press into her further, coaxing her down onto her back, and she let him win. His body covered hers as soon as she'd flattened out, and her hands ran the length of his back a few times before growing bold enough to settle themselves on the rounds of his ass.

He moaned and bucked his hips, responding to her touch. He pulled back, away from her lips, and kissed his way down her neck, over the very top of her chest, and up behind her left ear. He whispered something to her, his hot and heavy breathing making her moan louder, and then he pulled her earlobe into his mouth and suckled gently.

"Elliot," she breathed, her eyes still closed, afraid if they opened they'd realize this was all just a wonderful dream.

He pecked her cheek, her chin, and then finally sealed over her lips again with only a bare whisper of her name. There was a burning in his body, a fire coursing through him that he'd never felt before, and it took every ounce of courage and strength in him to suppress and ignore it. Pulling away again, he panted heavily as his forehead rested against hers and his own eyes closed.

Breathing just as irregularly and harshly, she skimmed her fingers up his back again, scratching him lightly. "Was that your way of telling me..."

"Yeah," he nodded with a single, soft laugh.

"I felt it," she said quietly. "I felt...everything. I see it, too, you know," she whispered to him.

He opened his eyes at her words, backing away only an inch to look down at her. "What?"

"In your eyes," she said, giving him a small but meaningful smile. "Every time you look at me, even when you...when you don't realize you're doing it."

He smiled at her. "I always know what I'm looking at when I look at you."

"Yeah?" Her lips curled up a bit more and her hands moved lower to reclaim their soft grip on his ass.

Chuckling, he nodded. But then his smile faded, and he grew a bit serious as he swallowed hard and darkened his gaze. "The same thing you see when you look at me." He kissed her softly, once. "I know."

She opened her mouth to say something, but the chirping of her phone stopped the words from forming. She pushed against him, kissing him deeply as she sat up straight. She kept her eyes on him as she reached over and answered the offending device.

He watched her as she spoke but he wasn't listening to anything she said. Instead, he was finalizing his plans for her, what he felt he had to do in return for everything she'd done and had become. Kathleen already knew, but he owed it to her to tell the other kids.

"El," she said a bit firmly. "Did you hear me?"

"No," he said honestly, shaking his head.

She shook her head and laughed, then told him, "We have to go. They're short handed and this...this is pretty huge."

He blinked. "Yeah," he said, nodding, even though he meant something else entirely. "I know it is."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	11. Chapter 11

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"My head hurts," Olivia complained, tossing her pen onto the desk and letting her head drop into her hands.

Fin chuckled. "Sorry," he said. "But that's all we got. I know it's confusing as shit, but until we get a new lead, that's where we are." He looked at Elliot. "You okay?"

Elliot bit his lip, looking down at something in his hand. "Fine," he said, but his lip was still snagged between his teeth.

Olivia noticed, leaned across her desk, and asked, "What's the matter?"

He tossed the crumpled piece of paper he'd been holding to her, and then shot up out of his seat and bolted from the room.

She looked down, confused, until she uncurled the paper and read it to herself. Her face fell, her heart sank, and her whole body withered.

"What?" Fin prodded gently, knowing it had to be bad.

"Kathy's life insurance," she said folding the paper a bit more elegantly than Elliot had. "They're dragging their feet with processing the rest of the claim, and he can't afford to pay the bulk of the expenses without it."

"What? Why?" Munch asked, proving to himself more than anyone else that he was awake and paying attention.

Olivia ran a hand through her hair. "Who the hell knows? Insurance companies are notorious for this kind of bullshit." She crossed her arms and bit her lip. "I had to threaten the agent we talked to, just to get him to cut a partial check so we could pay for the..."

Munch smirked as he interrupted her. "We?"

"Well, I was with him," Olivia said, unfaltering. "He could barely stand up on his own, John! I was there to help him, so yes, we."

"How long?" Munch asked, a bit less smugly. "Did they give him an estimate?"

"Three to six more months," she said, closing her eyes. "And that's only if they don't find fault with her death certificate." Her lips twitched and her nostrils flared. "They said...they have to be sure there was no foul play."

"That's cold," Fin muttered, leaning against his desk.

"They're harsher on the vic than we are on the perp," Olivia said. "I just can't stand to see him like this. He doesn't deserve..." she stopped, seeing something out of the corner of her eye. "I'm pissed."

Elliot, coming back into the room with damp hair and slightly reddened face, sighed as he said, "Makes two of us." He scratched his chin and said, "Look, I will worry about bills and bullshit later, where are we on this?" He held up the rather thin file on their current victim and raised an eyebrow, hoping swimming in the case would keep him from sinking in grief.

Nine o'clock rolled around faster than he'd expected, and just before he turned off his desk lamp and called it a night, Olivia wrapped a hand around the ball of his shoulder. He jumped and turned, but smiled as he relaxed. "Hey."

"Hey," she said, returning his grin. "Here." She held out a folded slip of paper, flicking her wrist toward him, telling him to take it.

Pulling it out from between her fingers, he squinted and unfolded it. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Just take it," she said, folding her arms. "I'm living in your house, right? I have been. For a while. Think of this as...back rent. And...upcoming rent. And my share of the bills and utilities and the..." She stopped herself, cleared her throat, and said, "Anyway, the point is you have nothing to worry about."

He stared at the long, thin paper in his hand. "You really expect me to take this from you?"

Olivia chuckled. "No, I know you better than that. You'll pay me back. I'll refuse to let you, but you'll try. We'll argue, I'll punch you, you'll buy me a beer. We've done it all before." She tilted her head. "Only now, we'll uh, actually kiss and make up."

Elliot blinked and looked up at her, his smile now smaller but warmer. "Thank you," he said. "You really don't have to..."

"Yeah," she interrupted, "I do." She saw confusion swirl over his face and she elbowed him playfully. "I moved out of my apartment and into that house, with you. I promised you I would help you put your life back together, help you keep the kids from falling apart. That's...that's what I'm doing."

He laughed and finally reached back to turn off his light. "Have I told you how amazing you are?"

"Not in the last few hours," she joked. She grabbed her jacket and the keys, and then walked with him out of the squad room. She narrowed her eyes and asked him, "What's up, you look a little..."

"Tired," he said, slapping the button to signal for the elevator. "Very, very tired. I thought...I was past all this, Liv. I was finally in a good place, and then they sent me that letter and...they reminded me that I..." he shook the words away, blinking rapidly. "Where, uh, where'd you get this kinda cash? Last time I checked, we pulled in the same salary, and I couldn't cut a check like that."

"You have four kids who go to private school and a mortgage on a six-bedroom-house in Queens," Olivia said, quirking a brow. She walked into the elevator with him, and when the door slid shut, she grabbed his hand. "A second mortgage, actually. I told you, then, I would find a way to repay you for that. So..."

He squeezed her hand. "Yeah," he sighed. "I know." He took a breath and looked at her again. "You paid me back long ago, though. Not with money." He stared at her a moment. "You know what I mean." When the small ding of the elevator hit his ears, he pulled her out into the lobby and sighed again. "How long have we been doing this?"

She screwed her face up in thought. "The job? Too long for most sane people, not long enough for..."

"Not the job," he said, guiding her through the doors and into the night air. He pulled her closer as he stopped walking and held up their connected hands. "This! This...dancing around it, ignoring it, pretending it's not there but feeling like it's the only thing that matters!" He shook his head and licked his lips. "When I got that letter this morning, I wasn't upset about the money. I knew the insurance would take it's sweet fucking time. I was upset because I..." He scraped his teeth over his bottom lip. "Back in the elevator...I was going to say...that letter made me realize I would be completely fucking lost without you. Part of me knew you'd find a way to get me through this." He snorted out a disbelieving laugh. "Granted, I never thought you'd fork over ten grand like that, but I just knew. I knew, because I would do the same fucking thing for you."

"You have," she whispered, gripping his hand tighter despite the fact that her palm, and his, has started to sweat.

He nodded, hearing her. "I think that proves it, doesn't it? That I am...in love with you." He laughed again, but it sounded anything but happy. "God, if we didn't get called into work when we did, we would have taken things too far, too fast, but I swear to God, I wouldn't have fucking..." he paused, letting the thought and his words go. "It's been a long day, we haven't slept, or eaten much of anything, and the kids are probably already asleep...and on top of all of that there's only one thing I want to say to you and every time I say it in my head it sounds so stupid."

"You don't have to say it," she told him, pulling on his hand and starting off in the direction of his car. "I already know." She smiled at him as she watched what seemed like a great weight rise off of his shoulders. "Deep down, I've always known."

They had almost made it to the car, his lips had almost made it to hers. Almost.

"Hey! Guys!" Fin's voice broke into the tense air between them.

They broke apart fast, dropping their hands and looking toward Fin, shouting a simultaneous, "What?"

Fin ran toward them. "Glad I caught you. I hate to say it, but you gotta come back. We finally caught a break."

Elliot chuckled once and smoothed a hand down his face. "No, we didn't," he mumbled under his breath. He shot Olivia a look, winked at her, and gave her a small push back toward the station house. He watched her for a moment and his heart thumped against his chest. Their break hadn't come yet, but it would, though. Soon. He'd make sure of it.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	12. Chapter 12

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Olivia looked around the bedroom, her lip bitten between her teeth and her arms folded over tightly, hugging herself as though keeping herself together. She took a hesitant step closer to the bed, trying to remember the last time she'd slept in it; sleeping in the same warm bed with Elliot was all she seemed to recall, nothing before, and she didn't want to imagine anything after. Though, eventually, she thought, she would have to. With a sigh, she sat on the edge of the bed and reached underneath it, pulling two flattened and folded duffel bags out into the middle of the carpet. Another sigh escaped, and she rose to her feet, heading for the dresser that remained half-filled with her clothes.

"What are you doing?"

She heard his voice ask the question, but her heart broke with the answer. "Packing," she barely whispered. She didn't turn around, she just kept moving forward, and both hands pulled on the brass knobs. His hands stopped hers, though, and her confused and shocked eyes darted upward, staring at him. Briefly, she wondered how he'd gotten to her so quickly, but she brushed the thought away with another heavy breath. She knew how fast he could run, especially when he was pissed.

"Don't," he said, more dominantly than he'd wanted, in an attempt to sound less needy.

She raised an eyebrow. "I kind of have to," she said, blinking once at him.

He tightened his grip on her hands. "Whatever it is, we can work it out, I mean, I don't even know what happened. If I upset you, or if it was the kids, we just need to..."

"Slow down," she said, pulling one hand away from his to press against his chest. "Jesus, calm down," she said, her eyes widening.

"You can;t do this," he said in return, one of his hands flying to cup over hers, pressing it further into his skin.

She smiled at him and tilted her head. "You really expect me to take my showers upstairs, then traipse around the house in a towel, come all the way down here to get my clothes..."

"Wait, what?" he asked, flustered.

She chuckled lightly. "We need to do laundry," she said, "And I need to bring the rest of my clothes upstairs." She shook her head then, noticing he didn't look any more relaxed or relieved at all. "What just happened? Talk to me?"

He shook his head fast and pulled on both of her hands, hard. He threw his arms around her and squeezed tightly, his heart beating a hard and fast rhythm against her chest now, clear through and beyond his own. "Don't do that to me." He trembled a bit as he held her, shaking his head again, more adamantly than he had before. "Please, just...don't...don't do that."

"I'm sorry," she tried to say, but her head was pressed so tightly into his body that it came out as more of a muffled and unintelligible noise. She twisted in his arms and unwedged herself enough to look up at him. "What the hell is the matter with..."

"I thought you were leaving," he said quickly, still panicked. "Because of what Cragen said when you told him you were staying..."

She snorted, cutting him off. "And where would I go, huh? I couldn't leave, even if I wanted to, which I don't." She ran her hands down his back, hoping to feel the knotted muscles loosen, but she only felt him stiffen. "As for what Cragen said, I told him I was staying with you for the kids. He knows they aren't exactly okay yet, especially Maureen. What he said was a little out of line, but it wasn't unexpected. And as long as he thinks he was wrong, we're okay." She squinted. "Breathe. What...you don't look...are you okay?"

He shook his head again and squeezed her tighter, burying his head into the crook of her neck.

She let her nails scratch up and down his back, over and over, as she tried to soothe him. "This happened this morning, too," she reminded him. "At the park, when we saw the vic in the..."

"I couldn't help it," he interrupted, taking a deep breath. "I don't know what's the matter with me, but I just...I took one look at her...the hair, the...I couldn't see her face but the way she was..." he closed his eyes and took another breath. "She looked like you."

Olivia's eyes narrowed, her hand moved, reaching slowly for his cheek, and she brushed the side of his face gently. "I'm not going anywhere," she said, holding his stare. "I'm not exactly sure what's going on here, with us, but if you think I'm giving up before we even round third base, you're crazier than I thought."

Finally, he smiled, giving in and laughing softly. He took another deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, I...I know that, I just..." he slid a hand down his face and cleared his throat. "Whenever I think of you leaving, my heart stops. I told you a long time ago, I don't know who I am without you, and it took...all of this bullshit...to make me realize just how much I meant it." He let his hand fall over hers, and he peeled it away from his face, linking their fingers. He tugged her toward the bed as he moved, turned, and sat on the corner. He looked up at her, expectantly. When she sat beside him, he exhaled slowly and looked into her eyes. "I've always known, since the day you walked into the unit, that I would never be able to work with another partner. Not well, anyway. But these last few months, living with you, letting myself really...feel...without worrying about consequences or fallout...something clicked." He blinked and breathed. "Losing Kathy...fucking sucked. But it wasn't...things with her weren't..."

"I know," she whispered, swiping the thumb of her left hand under his eye and over the apple of his cheek as her right hand squeezed his a bit. "You don't have to keep explaining that to me. I know."

He nodded. "Losing you, though...I would lose...I would lose everything. I'm not okay, my kids are a mess, Maureen has nightmares and Kathleen keeps finding her mother's clothes and shoes in her closet...the twins haven't really dealt with it as severely, but they're not old enough to fully realize..." he stopped, feeling hot tears fill his eyes. He swallowed the large lump that had formed in his throat and he tried to smile. "And then there's you," he whispered. "You run in when Maureen starts screaming, and you hold her, and she stops. You convince Kathleen that wearing those clothes and those shoes is okay, and it's a way to keep her mother with her. You try to tell the twins what's going on, and you told them all about Heaven and angels and things I didn't even say to them." He smiled again, bringing his free hand up to the side of her face, cupping her cheek slightly and pulling tenderly. "And you put me back together, rebuilt me, and now I can't breathe if I even think of a life without you in it, by my side, where you belong." He brushed his nose against hers. "I can't breathe when I think about losing you." He moved a bit closer to her, his lips moving against hers as he said, "I don't want to think about it anymore.:"

She shook her head, feeling his hot breath against her mouth, and she whispered, "Don't. Don't think about it. It's never gonna happen."

He nodded once and moved the final centimeter, pressing his lips to hers, kissing her. His hand wound around her neck, keeping her from pulling away until he was damn good and ready to stop kissing her, which wouldn't be for an eternity if he had his way.

She curled her fingers around his, their hands still clasped, as her other arm snaked around his neck. A soft moan escaped her lips, landing on his tongue, and it became the catalyst of a much deeper, much more intense kiss.

Voices broke through silence, moans and cries, whispers of each other's names and promises that weren't supposed to be made just yet. Heightened senses gave way to goose-bumps, hearts echoed rapid and thunderous kick-drum beats, and hands became travelers, marking territory and excavating new ground. It wasn't until a knock on the bedroom door hit his ears that he even realized where they were, what they were doing. He pulled back, away from her, quickly pulling his hand out from under her shirt and wiping the corners of his lips. "Yeah?"

The door creaked open. "Daddy? Is Liv in there with...oh, hi." Kathleen said, giving Olivia a small smile. "I thought you were staying upstairs, now."

"I am, I just...we were...I needed..." she pointed, brandishing her finger at the dresser.

"Oh, right," Kathleen said, nodding in understanding, though Olivia wasn't even sure what she had actually said to her. "If you're not busy, um, Maureen needs you." She looked at her father, and then back to Olivia. "Her English teacher gave her a poetry assignment, and she doesn't want to do it, and she won't stop crying. Dickie was trying to calm her down, and I think she tried to bite him."

"Oh, God," Olivia gasped, running passed Kathleen, out into the hallway and up the stairs to Maureen's bedroom.

Elliot tried to slow his breathing again, and he looked at his daughter. "What, um, what's the assignment?"

"She has to write a lyric poem. You know, it's one of those longish rhyming ones, like song lyrics?" She sat next to her father. "She said...the poem needs to be about our family. Our parents and stuff." She looked down into her lap as her feet swung, hitting the side of the bed. "The teacher told her that, with what happened, that maybe her poem should focus on Mom. Frankie Thompson told me she ran out of the class, and she spent the rest of the day in the nurse's office. Daddy, she's been crying since second period, and all she kept saying, over and over, is..."

"She wanted mommy," Elliot assumed, wrapping an arm around his daughter's shoulders.

"Well, yeah, she said that a few times, but...Daddy, she was asking for Liv." She looked up at her father and blinked once. "Liv is the only one who can get her to calm down, and she won't tell me why. Biting Dickie I can understand, I wouldn't want the muddy little worm touching me, either, but she...she wouldn't talk to me."

Elliot's lips curled under and he pulled Kathleen into a hug. "Honey, she will. Right now, she needs someone to tell her it's all gonna be all right. Someone that...she'll believe. Live just knows what to do, because she lost her mom, too, and she got through it. Maureen can't talk to you guys...or me, not yet, because we're still trying to figure out what happens next. Liv knows."

Kathleen let out an audible sigh and said, "I never thought of it that way. That's why she helps so much, isn't it? Because she knows what to do? What to say?" She looked up at her father and smiled. "And because she loves us, doesn't she, Dad?"

"Yeah, honey," he said, relaxing for the first time in a long while. "She loves us, very much."

"Yes, I do," Olivia said softly, coming back into the room. "She's asleep. I, uh, I think I need to have a conversation with that English teacher of hers. I have some poetry of my own that I think she'll really love."

"Okay, we're talking about that," Elliot said, suddenly realizing that maybe Kathleen didn't know the whole story.

Olivia brushed Kathleen's hair back and said, "It's gonna have to wait." She looked at Elliot. "We gotta go."

"Now?" he asked, annoyed.

Olivia nodded. "Now," she said, and then she kissed Kathleen's cheek. "You're in charge, go upstairs, monitor homework, make sure your brother..."

"Takes a bath and brushes his teeth," Kathleen said, nodding as she got off of the bed. "I'll make him use the stuff Dad washes the stove with. It cuts grease." She skipped out of the guest bedroom and set off to babysit.

"She was kidding," Olivia said, chuckling at the befuddled expression on Elliot's face. "I think."

"Where are we going?" he asked, scratching at his five-o'clock-shadow. He followed her out of the room and toward the front door, taking his jacket off of its hook.

She pulled her own leather coat on and said, "Central Park." She waited a beat as they stared at each other. "Again."

"Who?" Elliot questioned, his brow furrowed.

"Angela Dowers," she told him. "Plays our first vic's mother on the show. Someone's attacking the cast, one-by-one, and we have to..." Her words were stopped by his lips, a tender kiss that held more emotion in it that one would think possible.

He pulled away slowly, unhappily, wishing he could spend more time proving things to her, things he didn't know how to say, afraid to say them in the wrong way, at the wrong time.

"What was that for?" she asked, stunned. She licked her stinging lips, missing the feel of his mouth on hers. "Not that I'm complaining," she added, smirking now.

He smiled. "Don't know when this'll be over. And I told you, I need you to now that I'm..." he paused. He looked into her eyes, and he didn't need to say anything more. He could tell by look and the light glaring back at him, she already knew. "Let's go."

She smiled a bit broader and opened the door, giving him a playful shove onto the porch. Laughing, they poked and prodded each other the whole way down the steps and along the driveway, enjoying the ease and comfort of each other as they got into Elliot's car. They quietly snickered as they hooked into their seat belts, breaking into short bursts of hysterical laughter when certain words and thoughts popped into their heads.

"You really do know exactly what to do, and say," he told her softly, adjusting the rear-view mirror.

"I'm just doing something I haven't done in...years." She sighed and looked at him as he started the car.

"What's that?" he asked, curious, backing out of the driveway and turning onto the road.

She pressed her lips together, thinking. "Following my heart," she almost whispered. "Wherever it leads."

He kept his eyes on the road, stilling except for his wrists and hands as he drove. "And, uh, where...where is leading you?" He knew what he wanted her answer to be, and he prayed, hoping God would listen to him.

She smiled, reached across the console, and rested her hand over his on the gear shift. "Right to you," she said with a shrug, and when she saw the smile spread over his face, she knew he'd be right there, waiting and welcoming.

"When, uh, when we're done, I mean, really done, case closed," he started, turning the wheel and heading for the bridge, "I'm taking you to dinner."

"That's a good idea," she said, turning to look out the window. "The kids have been asking to go to Fiorello's and I don't think I know any more chicken recipes, so it might be a good..."

"Just you," he interrupted. "You and me. Um. Like...dinner," he tried to explain.

It hit her, and she felt suddenly breathless, freezing, her eyes losing focus as colors blurred and breezed by the window, not registering in her mind at all. Slowly, her lips twitched and curled, forming a genuinely happy smile. "Yeah," she said, nodding a single time and turning back to look at him. "Dinner."

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**

 ** _MarchCommaJo on Twitter_**


	13. Chapter 13

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"This isn't exactly dinner," she said, teasingly, shooting him a wink as she wrapped her fingers around her glass of water.

He chuckled. "Two-in-the-morning, we haven't eaten since noon, so for us, it's dinner." He slowly, almost timidly, reached his arm out and dropped it to the table. He twisted his wrist, facing his palm upward, and then he looked at her, pleadingly, hopefully. "You look so beautiful, right now," he whispered.

She set her water glass down, licked her lips, and smiled at him as she dropped her hand into his. She held her breath when she felt his fingers squeeze hers. She felt her heart thud and her stomach churn, but she smiled at him as she squeezed back. "I've been wearing the same clothes for thirty-six hours, I haven't showered, and..." she saw something flicker in his eyes. "And you really meant that, didn't you?" she questioned, her smile warming more. "You all right?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

His bedraggled look contradicted his firm and resounding, "Yes." His unshaven chin crinkled as he laughed, and his tired eyes wrinkled when his smile widened. "Better than I have been in months. In...in years. Ever, actually." He held up his hand, holding hers, and with a contented sigh, he said, "This feels...perfect. Right. You are, hands down, the best thing that's ever happened to me, besides my kids."

She held his warm gaze for a moment. "That's why we can't screw this up."

He furrowed his brow, but still smiled. "We won't. I know that. We're too much a part of each other." He brushed his thumb over the side of her hand and let out yet another soft sigh. "You trust me, don't you?"

"With my life," she said, nodding.

He leaned just a bit closer to her. "Trust me with your heart, then," he said softly.

"I do," she told him, and then she straightened up and pulled her chair in more toward the table. "What are you getting to..."

"Tell me something you've always been afraid to tell me," he interrupted.

Her eyes widened a bit. "I've already told you the one thing that I've ever kept from you," she said. "Turned out not to be so scary after all. Try again."

He laughed. "Okay, um...oh, uh, if you weren't a cop, what would you be?"

She pursed her lips, knowing what he was attempting to do and loving him more for it. "A lawyer," she said with a slightly playful look in her eyes, as if she'd beaten him at his own game. She took another sip of water with her free hand. "What about you?"

"Honestly," he said, sighing, "I'd probably still be in the service. A career marine." He looked up as a waiter approached the table, and without letting go of Olivia's hand, he said, "Two cheeseburger platters, medium-rare, no onion, extra ketchup and a side of mayonnaise for each of us." He looked at Olivia and smiled, adding, "And two coffees."

The waiter looked at them both, nodded and rolled his eyes, and walked away.

"He's pleasant," she quipped with a scoff.

"It's two AM, he's probably tired, like us," he said, swiping his thumb over her fingers again.

Her eyes fell. "Not like us," she whispered. "No one gets tired the way do, the mental and emotional exhaustion combined with the endless hours and days without sleep..."she stopped, pushing the thoughts about work and the pain of their job out of her mind. She took a deep breath and looked back at him. "You, um, you said that...when you called the kids...you told Maureen...about, uh, this." She twisted his hand in hers and rested her other palm over them both, a slight smile on her face.

His other hand topped hers, and he nodded. "I told them I was taking you out, to dinner, to see...see where this goes."

"We know where this is going," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "Don't we?"

One side of his mouth curled upward. "I have an idea, yeah," he said to her. He moved back, only to let their server drop their plates in front of them. "She said she wasn't surprised, and that she expected it, but she's still...dealing with her mother's death." He looked down for a moment. "We all are. So we take it slow, let it happen, and...we'll get there." He looked back up at her and smiled again.

The young man, still standing by the table, mumbled something about being right back with their coffee and walked away again, leaving Elliot and Olivia alone with their burgers.

She pulled one hand out of the his hold and popped a fry into her mouth. "He didn't bring your mayo," she said, changing the subject.

"I'll just have to steal your, then," he quipped. He loosened his grip on her hands and picked up his burger. "Do you, um...do you remember Emily Owens?"

"The beat cop from Queens who shadowed us for a week before deciding she'd rather be a teacher?" she asked as she raised an eyebrow and tossed another fry into her mouth.

He laughed as he chewed and swallowed his first bite, shaking his head. "No, the, uh, the old woman Mitch Wilkens killed, the one he wouldn't help us find."

Olivia furrowed her brow and froze, her burger an inch away from her lips. "I remember her," she dropped her food back down and let out a huff. "Not the best topic to bring up if you're going for romance."

He laughed again. "I wanted to tell you, all day, but we were working and there wasn't any time...I got a call from Garrett in homicide. They found her."

Olivia blinked once. "Wow. Why...why did they call you?"

"I had Morales put her in the system, listing her as an unsolved murder, and I put us as the primary notifications since she didn't have any family." He licked his lips. "I know...I know how much it bothered you that she was never found, and I know how much it meant to you to find her."

"Oh, El," she breathed, her head tilting. "That's...that's so..." She cleared her throat. "What's going to happen to her? No one is around to..."

"Mitch's mother," he said, cutting her off. "It's already been worked out, everything is taken care of, so...you can, uh, stop wondering."

Her eyes landed on his and she finally took a bite of her burger. She held his gaze as she chewed and swallowed, and she used one hand to reach for his again.

He took her hand and they ate, one-handed, talking and laughing and for the first time in a long time, nothing mattered except each other. The coffee had finally arrived and they needed three refills apiece before they finished eating. They both reached for wallets, but Elliot won, claiming that he couldn't call it an official date unless he paid.

"Then we've been dating for years," she joked, laughing.

He looked at her with a seriousness that scared her. "I know," he told her, dropping two twenty dollar bills into the small leather billfold. "That's why...this is gonna work." He looked back at her, into her eyes. "It's gonna be the most incredible thing that..."

His cell phone rang, stopping his speaking, and both faces took on a film of panic and worry.

"No," she said sadly, shaking her head, "Not now. Not again."

He frowned as he answered his phone with an annoyed and exhausted, "Stabler." He listened and then looked at his watch. "No, we, uh...we haven't slept yet, so it's...no, no, we will be right there." He sighed and hung up, shoving his phone into his pocket. He got up, moved a foot toward her, and held out his hand.

She slipped her fingers into his palm and let him pull her to her feet, and she held her breath as she noticed he was moving again, closer to her.

His head bent and his face angled, his lips touched hers, igniting a fire within him that up until now had only been a pile of slow-burning embers. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her tighter, ignoring the fact they were standing in a mostly-empty Manhattan diner. He pulled away slowly, his eyes still closed, and he whispered, "We have to go."

She kissed his lips quickly once again, and she asked, "Where? Why?"

"Cole Nolte was found dead in his trailer," he told her, looping one arm around her shoulders as they headed out of the restaurant. "Someone bailed him out..."

"And then someone killed him," she finished his thought for him. She sighed, rubbing her eyes, wondering when she'd be able to take a shower or a nap, and wondering what would be waiting for her and Elliot when they finally got to go home.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_

 _ **MarchCommaJo on Twitter**_


	14. Chapter 14

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"I can still hear you breathing," she whispered into the dark. "You're not asleep. What's wrong?"

"I can't get the sound of her crying out of my head," he whispered back. "She just kept screaming...the sound I hate the most in the world is one of the kids, or you, crying like that. I just..."

"Me?" She looked at him with unfocused yet disbelieving eyes, unconcerned with the fact that she interrupted him.

He shot back a look that told her he wasn't the one that had just sounded insane. "Yeah, you. God, when you cry...I feel it to the core. You and my children...when you hurt, so do I." He shook his head and turned over onto his side. He scooted closer to her and folded one arm over her body. Pulling her toward him, he whispered, "She sounded like she was in so much pain. You...you just..."

"Let her cry it out," Olivia said, shrugging. She wasn't aware that her hands were moving under his tee-shirt and smoothing over his abdomen and chest. At least, she was unaware until he moaned. She kept them moving, though, feeling each defined muscle and ripple of skin. "She shouldn't feel like her feelings don't matter, and she shouldn't feel like she needs to stifle them."

"No, you held her and let her cry, and for the first time, I was there." He moaned at her touch again as he shifted closer to her, dropped his head, and as he spoke, his lips brushed lightly against hers. "I saw it, and I heard it, and I know it's my duty as a father to be there, but I wish I wasn't. That...that killed me." He kissed her softly, quickly. "But you...you brought me right back to life. Stronger, and...better." He blinked once and kissed her again.

Her hands ran around his body, over his shoulders, and her palms pressed into his skin as she kissed him back. She felt his fingers twitching at her back, and knowing what it meant, she let out a soft moan. It was a mix of pleading and permission.

The same hands that had just been granted an all-access pass to her body were now trembling as they skirted along the straps of her tank top. He froze, then, pulling back from the heated kiss to look into her eyes. "Promise me," he whispered.

"Promise you what?" She asked him in the same near-silent voice, looking into his eyes as she tried to slow her breathing. There was very little light filtering in from the window, but she could see the emotions etched into his face, so clearly. Her heart stopped as she waited for him to answer her.

He swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut tightly and moving his shaking hands down her body to her waist. "Stay with me," he whispered. "No matter what happens, please, don't leave me. Don't give up on me. On us."

"Why the hell would I ever..." she paused, her skin breaking out in goose-bumps as his fingertips grazed the bare skin of her stomach. "I'm not going anywhere," she said with a shiver, digging her nails into his back. "As long as you're not."

"Oh, let's make this clear, right now," he said, inching his fingers higher, "There is no way, in hell, I am ever letting you slip away from me." He smiled and kissed her again, his hands finding the courage to slide up, resting just under her breasts. He held her as he kissed her, slowly, deeply, moaning just above a whisper.

She moaned in return, her volume and tone matched his, and she hooked one leg around his lower half, tangling them together. She felt him back away again and let out a soft whimper.

"Liv," he breathed, "I..."

His words were cut off by the sound of his phone chirping on the side-table. He closed his eyes in defeat and sighed. "Of course," he mumbled, reaching for the device, which, he gathered, was trying to purposely piss him off.

She watched him answer, biting her lip and hoping it was simply an informative call and she could have him to herself for a little while longer.

"Yeah," he said, closing his eyes and letting out an annoyed grunt. "No. She's still here, so..." he raised his eyes to the ceiling, and he offered up a mental apology for the lie about to leave his lips. "In the guest room, what do you think..." He stopped and licked his lips. "Right. I got it, thanks. We're on the way." He hung up and looked at her, his eyes telling her the bad news.

"You're kidding," she complained, and her entire body seemed to deflate against his.

He shook his head and pulled her into him, kissing her again. "I'm sorry."

She kissed his cheeks, his chin, his neck, and his lips one more time. "Don't be," she said. "I have to go with you, remember?"

He smiled at her. "You're always with me," he said, rolling over and getting out of the bed. He had something to tell her, but the moment was stolen from him, and now wasn't the time. He wandered over to his long dresser, pulling open a drawer, begrudgingly choosing a work-appropriate pair of jeans.

"Hey, El?" she called to him, pulling a clean pair of pants off of a hanger. She let her pajama bottoms drop to the floor as she stood in the shadows of the closet.

He turned to her and hummed, trying to keep his body from reacting to her nearly naked form as she changed in front of him. If he gave in, it would be impossible to keep from pushing her back into bed.

"I, uh, I think I know...what you were trying to say." She pulled a blue, crew neck shirt over her head and flicked the hair out of the collar. She was quiet until she looked back at him. "I, um...I..." She couldn't form the words yet. She didn't want to betray anything or jump the gun if she was wrong. "Me, too."

"Yeah?" he asked, the right side of his mouth curling into a smile. "You...you sure?"

She walked toward him. Keeping her eyes on his, locked on his gaze, she wrapped both arms around his waist and leaned up to kiss him again, making it long and deep since there was no way of knowing how long it would be until she could do it again. She licked her lips, blinking up at him, and she said, "I have no intention of letting you go, either." She left him to finish getting ready and walked out into the hallway, down the stairs, and waited.

She looked at the curio cabinet, the array of awards and the frames that now held photos of her and his children and she raised her eyes heavenward. "I'm so sorry," she said, to someone that might've forgiven her if forgiveness was warranted.

"For what?" a small voice behind her asked.

She turned, surprised. "Dickie, honey, what are you doing up?"

"I needed a drink of water," he said, "But I didn't want to bother you or Dad. You hardly get any sleep as it is." He took in the way she was dressed. "I guess Uncle Dave is coming to watch us again?"

Olivia nodded, assuming Elliot called his younger brother, who, thankfully, lived nearby and didn't work full-time. "We gotta go into..."

"Yeah," Dickie said. "I guessed that, too." He padded his little feet along the floor and gave her legs a hug, his head resting against her lower stomach. "I had a weird dream."

"What about?" she asked, her fingers brushing his short, shaggy hair back and out of his eyes. She stuck the tag back into the collar of his shirt, chuckling at the cuteness of his dinosaur pajamas. "You can tell me."

"You and Dad. You were getting married, and Grandma made your dress, but it was purple, and Mom was..." He stopped and he looked up at Olivia. "Mom was sitting on this huge cloud, smiling and telling us all that it was okay now, and we were allowed to be happy again."

"That sounds like a pretty great dream to me," Elliot said as he stepped toward them. He'd waited by the bottom of the steps, watching the heartwarming moment, but now, he had to be a part of it. "I, uh, I had the same dream a few nights ago."

Olivia's head whipped toward him. "You didn't tell me that," she scolded.

Elliot shrugged. "I didn't want to creep you out," he defended. He looked at his son, grinning, and said, "I think Mommy was really telling us...it's okay to be happy, now. We should...we should let ourselves be happy." He eyed Olivia for a moment. "All of us," he said, looking into her eyes.

"I think so, too," Dickie said with a nod. He gave his father a hug, and then bounded up the stairs. "Be careful! I love you!" He shouted before he ran into his room, "Both of you!"

They heard his door close and looked at each other. They shared a smile, acknowledging that something very real and heavy had just shifted.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand in his. "We really do have to go." He kissed her cheek and whispered something in her ear that made her smile broadly and squeeze his hand.

He'd found his moment.

 ** _Peace and Love_**

 ** _Jo_**


	15. Chapter 15

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

It was hard to concentrate on the case, on the vic, on the perp. The only things floating around in his head were the words he whispered into Olivia's ear as they left his house a few hours ago, and the ruddish pallor her face had taken on as her smile beamed back a silent response. His fingers still burned where she squeezed them, and his palms sweat with the memory of her heat.

He blinked twice, her voice registering in his ears but nothing connecting to his brain. When a paper clip made contact with his left eyebrow, though, his head snapped. "What the fuck, man?" he barked at Fin.

"Pay attention," Fin nearly growled. "Your partner has been pretty much solving this case by herself, and she's been explaining a theory, calling your name for the last ten minutes."

"Sorry," he mumbled, pulling on his tie. "My head is...I'm just..."

"We know," Munch said softly, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Maybe you came back too soon. It's a pretty common name, and if you're not going to be able to handle it every time a case pops us with..."

"What?" Elliot interrupted hoarsely, his throat suddenly burning. "What are you talking about?"

"Uh," Munch balked. "We all thought...you've been spacing out because the vic's name is Kathy."

Out of respect for Munch's suit and Olivia's feelings, he had the good sense to run out of the room, into a nearby bathroom, before heaving and hurling. The mention of her name, and the fact that he'd been completely ignoring everyone and everything, the gravity of the words he said and the emotions behind them, it all hit him at once and his stomach finally turned a little too far. After another prayer to the porcelain gods, he righted himself, flushed, and stumbled toward the sink. He ran the cold water for a moment, and then he used his right hand as a cup, bringing some of the cool, clear water into his mouth, rinsing out the taste of bacon and eggs and bile. He splashed some of the icy water onto his ghostly face, and when he wiped his eyes, he jumped a full foot into the air. Staring at the second reflection in the mirror, he said, "I didn't even hear you come in."

She shrugged. "You were flushing," she surmised, and both of her hands rested on his shoulders. She squeezed, earning a delicious sounding moan, and she said, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he breathed, his eyes closed as he leaned back into her impromptu but very welcome massage. "Just...it all kind of...smacked me in the face. She's gone, Liv. Really gone. I mean, I always knew I wouldn't be married to her forever, and when you walked into my life, it was just confirmation." His left hand snaked up and covered hers. "I just...you never think about...I played scenarios in my head, you know? What would I do if you were shot, if you needed a kidney, or if you got sick...or hurt...or...and I would panic. Full on, white-spots-before-my-eyes-can't-breathe-want-to-die panic. But I never...not once...imagined what life would be like if it all happened to Kathy."

"Because Kathy was safe," Olivia said. "You and me, El, we're the front-line-defense. It's entirely possible someone is going to shoot me, stab me, run me over with a steam-roller, but Kathy was in an office for six hours a day, and then home, there was no need for you to..."

"That's not why," he laughed, stopping her, "But thanks for playing. I'm sure there's a consolation prize." He sighed again and turned to look at her. "I didn't even know our vic's name was Kathy. Not until Munch brought it up. I don't know how she died, where we found her, or who's looking good for it. I haven't been paying much attention, and the reason why..."

"You regret it," she said, cutting him off, looking down at her hand in his. "Saying...what you said."

His eyes widened and he looked mildly offended. "Regret it? Fuck, no, I want to say it again. And again. And then again. I want to get it tattooed on my fucking chest, honey." He shook his head and the barest possible smile pulled at his lips. "It's been bugging me that I can't. Not here. Not yet. And it's...hard...to fully realize, to say it out loud, without feeling like I'm betraying her or my kids, that it's too soon, but, God, it feels so fucking right."

There were tears in her eyes, she could feel them begging for escape, but she wouldn't let them fall. She gave a soft sniffle, and she pressed her lips together. "We need to work, here, and we need to pretend like our lives didn't just do Olympic-level backflips. But I need you to know, while we're alone, in the, um, men's room..." she made a face and let out a small laugh. "I..."

"Yo!" Fin called as he threw the door open. "Unless you want people to think you're bumping uglies in here, get back to work. Cap's pissed as it is, and we got a lead on the car."

She gave him a sad smile, but promised herself she would finish the thought the moment they got another moment alone.

That moment didn't come.

Not for six hours and seventeen minutes.

When it finally happened, it was in the front seats of their usual sedan, the maroon one that smelled like coffee and spoiled milk, Elliot's cologne and Olivia's shampoo, and something verging on sickeningly sweet. They had just buckled their seat-belts, he had just turned the key and taken his foot off the brake, and the car had just began to roll away from the curb in front of their suspect's apartment building. She waited until he was on a clear, empty road, just in case he swerved or slammed on the brakes. "Iloveyoutoo," she said quickly, as if it was all one word. She held her breath.

His eyes twinkled and he smiled so broadly it reached his ears. "Hearing it," he paused, licking his lips and biting the bottom one, "God, you don't know what you just did to me. I mean, my hands are shaking and I kind of want to do a tap dance or something."

"Slow down," she said, laughing at the rapid rambling he'd just done. "I know, it's...kind of...exactly how I felt when you told me." She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "You were paying attention in there, this time, right?"

He chuckled and nodded. "Yeah," he said, "And now, I, uh, I'm pretty sure I can give this case my full concentration. My head is, um, less foggy now that I know you...that you said it back." He winked at her and turned the wheel, heading back toward the precinct. "I, um...I don't know if I told you...I paid off the funeral home and covered the burial. It's done, so when the insurance comes in, I will pay you back every..."

"What did I say when I gave it to you?" she interrupted. "I'm living in your house. That's my..."

"No, no way," he said, biting into her words. "It was a loan, I'm treating it like a loan."

She narrowed her eyes. "And you mortgaging the house for me was, what, an early retirement present?"

He scoffed, but he couldn't argue with that. He had done something pretty financially stupid for her, without his then-wife's permission or knowledge, and he told her he never, not once, expected her to repay him. "Okay, so, we're even, then."

"Ha!" she barked. "Not even close." She shot him a playfully annoyed look and blew him a kiss, and slowly, she reached for his hand. She entangled their fingers and sighed contentedly as he wrapped both of their hands around the gear shift.

The rest of the ride was quiet.. Nothing else needed to be said. Minds, though, were not so easily quieted, and both of their heads were filled with thoughts, some impure and some embarrassing, but most identical to each other.

Elliot glanced over at her, his eyes still glinting as he parked in a spot in front of the station. He smiled at her and brushed his thumb along her fingers, holding onto her for as long as he could. "I really do love you," he whispered, and he leaned over the console and kissed her cheek. "So much. And I promise, I am going to prove it to you."

"Oh, El," she whispered, nearly breathless. "You already have. More times than either of us is ready to admit."

"No, Liv," he said, looking into her eyes. His own darkened, narrowed, and somehow seemed to take on a life of their own. "I'm going to...prove it."

"What does that even mean?" she asked, her eyes now clouded with confusion, her nose crinkling in wonder as she stared at him, waiting for an answer.

He smirked, yanked the keys out of the ignition, unhooked his safety belt, and got out of the car without answering her.

She heard him whistling an unfamiliar tune as he strutted away, and with a curious grunt, she followed in his footsteps. She caught up to him at the door and shot him a look that demanded an answer to her question.

"Oh, I can't tell you," he said, shaking his head teasingly. He headed toward the elevator, knowing she was right beside him, and without looking at her he said, "I'm going to have to show you." He gave her that same evil-eyed grin he tossed her way in the car.

Stepping into the elevator beside him, she took a sharp intake of breath. Suddenly, she understood perfectly.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	16. Chapter 16

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Olivia had just settled onto the cushioned sofa, pulled her socked feet up to get comfortable, and blew slowly over the surface of her hot coffee. She closed her eyes as she took the first, much-needed sip. It had been a long day, an irritating night, and the interrogation of their latest asshole was brutal. Thankfully, it had led to a quick confession and she and Elliot were sent home immediately after handing in their files, officially closing the case.

She still had her eyes closed, her steaming mug resting between both hands, halfway to sleep, when a small voice startled her to wakefulness.

"What do you think happens?" Lizzie asked, sitting cross-legged on the carpet, doing her homework on the coffee table. She put her pencil down, looked up at Olivia, and said, "You know. When you die?"

Olivia froze, her coffee half-way to her lips. "Um," she stammered, hoping she would never have to be the one that had this conversation with a child, especially Elliot's. "Well, uh, if you...if you were a good person, you know, kind and humble and generous, a good-hearted person...then you become an angel in Heaven. If you...if you hurt anyone, or did...not nice things, you go to...um, you...not Heaven."

"I go to Church. And Catholic school," Lizzie said, smiling at Olivia's attempt at an explanation. "I know all about Heaven and Hell, but I want to know...what happens." She looked back down at her half-done science worksheet and picked up her pencil, shading in a layer of Earth on the diagram. "Is there a white light and tunnel like on TV? Is someone you love waiting for you? Do you...do you know you're dying, or do you just...stop living? End?"

Olivia looked down at the young girl, brushed her blonde hair back, and said, "I honestly don't know, sweetie. I like to believe there's someone there, waiting for us, that we see the ones we love again, and I hope that it's peaceful, and that there's something else...there."

"Me, too," Lizzie said. There was silence as she finished filling in her Earth diagram and then dropped her head against Olivia's thigh. "I miss her."

"I know you do, honey," Olivia whispered. "You done with that?"

Lizzie nodded and sniffled, keeping herself from crying. "Can I stay home tomorrow?" she asked, looking up at Olivia with red eyes.

"Why, sweetie?" she asked. "Do you feel sick?"

Shaking her head, Lizzie sniffled again and rubbed her eyes. "No, we have art class tomorrow." She pulled her little body up onto the couch and dropped herself into Olivia's lap. "We were told...today, the teacher said..."

"We have to make Mother's Day flowers," Dickie interrupted, coming out of the kitchen with his father right behind him. "Out of tissue paper. I didn't think much of it until now. Honest, I was just going to make two. One, I'll take with us when we go to the cemetery and give Mom real flowers on Sunday, and... kind of wanted to give one to you, Liv. Just as thank you flowers." He said, shrugging. "They're not gonna say mom or anything, so, just, you know, to say thanks. For everything. I mean, it doesn't mean...wait!" His eyes widened and he looked over his shoulder. "Can I do that? Is that against the rules or something?"

Elliot laughed. "No, spud, there are no rules. And I think...that's a really nice idea." He ruffled his son's hair and said, "I'm so proud of you, kid."

"For what?" the boy asked, confused.

Elliot shook his head with tears in his eyes. "Go upstairs, huh? Get ready for bed." He jutted his chin toward his youngest daughter. "You, too, Lizzie."

"Okay," she said, scooting off of Olivia. She followed her brother upstairs, having a muffled conversation with him along the way.

Moving toward the couch, Elliot caught Olivia's eyes. "Wow," he breathed. "That boy...is really something."

"He's you," Olivia said with a chuckle. "Only shorter, younger, and cuter."

He shot her a narrow-eyed look, folding is arms in pretend-offense. He stuck his tongue out at her and made a face, but caved when she cuddled closer to her. "He's right, you know. You've been here, with us, with them...and none of us really know how to say thank you."

She turned to look at him, her eyes first searching his and then trailing down to his lips, and as she moved closer to him, she rose her gaze back to his eyes. "You don't have to thank me," she whispered.

He moved, too, inching toward her, nodding silently as he claimed her mouth with his. His left hand swooped to the back of her neck and pressed against her skin, pushing her tighter to him. His tongue swiped along the seam of her lips, prying them apart, and he moaned softly when she met him in an eager and anxious dance.

Her right hand tried to keep its grip on her coffee mug as her left moved up his body and around his back. Her nails dug in deep, almost desperately, as she mumbled his name into their powerful kiss.

He was the first to pull back, owing to the need to breathe, and he panted as he dropped his head against hers. "I told Cragen we needed the day off tomorrow."

"What?" she asked breathlessly. "Why? How did you...what did he say?"

Still gasping lightly, he said, "We got it. He said we earned it with this case, and he knew I was, uh, handling things badly." He smiled at her. "I played up the miserable widower act, and he...we had a little heart-to-heart." He kissed her forehead. "He gave me some advice that...that I didn't realize I needed until now. You know, he...he's been through this."

She nodded. "I know," she said softly, placing a light kiss on his chin, and another on the corner of his mouth. "What did he say to you?"

"He said that...my life changed, but it wasn't over. I still need to live, and that it was okay if I found someone else, someone that gave me a reason to get up every day, and, baby, I swear to God...he was talking about you." He looked into her eyes and smiled again. "He told me to take the second chance I was given, and that it didn't mean that I loved Kathy any less, just that I grieved enough to know that it's time to let go."

"He really has been in your shoes," she said, blinking once. "Are you going to take his advice?"

Elliot laughed and kissed her quickly, and then got to his feet. "I already have." He took the coffee cup out of her hand and dropped it onto a coaster on the coffee table next to Lizzie's strewn about notebooks. He then grabbed both of her hands in his. "Come with me," he whispered, pulling her up.

She got up, letting him lead her up the steps. He kept tugging her along as he kicked his daughter's bedroom door and shouted, "Make sure your things are packed for school." He bit his lip as he backed into his own room, and he closed the door just as he heard his kids begin shuffling about to find their lunchboxes and text books. He laughed softly when he heard Lizzie yip her way down the stairs to fetch her things. He backed up again, this time toward the bed, and he pulled her with him, softening his look.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her heart beginning to thump a little harder beneath her chest.

He shook his head and gave a swift tug, pulling her onto him as he leaned backward, flattening himself on the mattress and her onto him. He kissed her again, slowly, deeply. He ran his hands up her back, sliding them underneath her shirt. He felt her stiffen, heard her moan, and spread his palms open, flat against her skin. He stopped breathing, waiting for some sign from her, permission to move again.

She rocked her hips against him, earning a growl and an exhalation of breath, and she felt him relax under him. Her lips traveled lower, finding a spot on his neck that needed her attention desperately. She nipped at it, teasing, and then sank her teeth in and suckled.

His moan was ungodly, and his body arched and tightened. "Don't play with fire, Olivia, not unless..." his words faded into another growl, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he flipped them over. "You asked for this," he said with gritted teeth. "Remember that."

All she gave him in return was a low, dark, chuckle. Her nails scraped along his skin as he slunk down her body, and when he began to pepper her stomach with soft kisses, she dug her nails into his scalp and scratched, moaning. "What are you..."

"Shh," he hushed, moving his fingers quickly to her waist. He pulled apart the clasp of her pants and hooked his fingers around the fabric of them, and with a fire in his eyes, he looked at her. He grinned, almost arrogantly, and began to urge the pants over her hips. He moved agonizingly slowly, taking his time, savoring each precious second of this and giving her time to change her mind, to stop him, if she wanted.

Her hands were resting on his shoulders, but she moved them to cup his face. Holding his gaze, she nodded and bit her lip, raised her hips, and urged him on.

He looked down, then, watching each inch of her skin come into view as he disrobed her, and when her pants, socks, and shirt were in a pile on the hardwood, he choked on air. He stared down at her, underwear-clad and flushed, and he unknowingly brought his right hand over his heart. He waited, just taking her in, not sure what he'd done to deserve this glorious reward. He lowered his hand and gripped the hem of his tee shirt, pulled it over his head, and tossed it down on top of her crumpled clothes. He laid over her and kissed her again, slow, deep, and with one hand on the mattress supporting him. His other hand moved and rested on her hip, his thumb skirting round the edge of her underwear.

She felt his hand trembling against her skin, her own fingers shaking slightly as they flitted through his short hair. "Elliot," she breathed, moving her hands downward, undoing the buckle on his belt.

He pulled away from her lips and rested his head against hers as he bent to watch her work, breathing a bit shallow and heavy. He couldn't risk blinking, afraid to wake up from some wonderful dream. He helped her, then, pushing his pants down and kicking them off, and then he looked into her eyes again. They were bright, certain. He kissed her hard, firm and demanding, as his hands began to pull at the silk of her bra. He felt the garment give, and her body moved against his as she shimmied out of it completely. He threw it to the ground and kissed his way down her face, her chin, her neck, coming to rest at the tops of the curves of her breasts. He took a trembling breath as his hands slid over her hips, finally lowering the last slip of fabric on her body. He rolled the underwear slowly over her hips, down her thighs, and finally, with one last swift move, dropped them to the floor. He went silent, still, staring.

Naked, fully exposed to him, she grew nervous. She'd always imagined leaving him completely speechless one day, just like this, but having it actually happen was rather terrifying. She twitched in anticipation, her knee jerking a bit and hitting him in the ribs.

The prod seemed to urge him into action. "You are so fucking beautiful," he eked out, shaking his head, and he moved slowly over her, running his fingers along every single centimeter of her body. He leaned in, pressing against her, as his hand smoothed its way between her legs. He kissed her again, an emotion-filled, slow, undulating kiss, as he dragged one finger through her wet flesh. It made her jolt and buck upward, but he pushed the long, thick digit into her heat and began to twist.

She gasped and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, biting down on it to muffle the long moan that had built up and escaped.

He growled softly as he eased another finger into her and begin to thrust them slowly. His heart pounded hard and fast, his fingers curled and moved, and he was beside himself in wonderment, unable to truly grasp the gravity of what was happening and focusing on how amazing it felt to have part of him inside of her. "I love you," he whispered, but it was barely audible and more of a thought than spoken sentiment.

She felt his lips move against her more than she heard the words leave his lips, and she said it back, just as softly.

It was the encouragement he needed to move his body into prime position and begrudgingly, he tore his hand away from her. He brought it to his lips, staring down at her as he slowly slid both of his fingers into his mouth and moaned in satisfaction. He was conflicted, torn between wanting to thrust hard into her and take her for all she was worth, hard and fast and intense the way he'd often fantasized, but a bigger part of him wanted to take his time, take it slow, make her cum in every possible way before driving into her and living a miracle. He settled on a compromise, slowly kissing her and inching his way into her, carefully, as if carrying a Ming vase across a bed of nails.

Excruciating, but in the most blissful of ways, it seemed to take far too long and not long enough to feel all of him inside of her. The sting and burn at her eyes and just behind her nose was fought off and combated, and she chose to kiss him back in full force when she felt his hips hit flush against hers. Those same tears threatened to spring up again, but as before she pushed them back and focused on the here, the now, the epic twist of fate and shift that spent her world spinning in a new direction. "I love you, too," she breathed, feeling him begin to move.

He thrust again, curling his fingers between hers and clutching her hands, pressing them down into the mattress. "Oh, my God, Liv," he choked out, his words hanging on something between a breath and a cry. He moved just a bit faster, just a sliver harder. "I love you," he repeated, still feeling as though he was drifting between fantasy and reality with her.

He loved her. He told her once more. And in the moment, as he kissed her again, just as he promised he would do, he proved it.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **JoJo :)**_


	17. Chapter 17

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

Waking with a start, Olivia looked around the bedroom, panicking, one hand pressed against her chest just over her heart. She tried to catch her breath as she closed her eyes, and slowly, she turned her head and hesitantly opened one eye. She cringed, seeing his naked form beside her, only half-covered by the sheets. "Damn," she said, knowing he would wake up and regret it, hoping she was wrong.

For her, it was the first time in a long while that nothing about sleeping with a man felt wrong. In fact, if she was being honest about it, nothing had ever felt so fucking right. She dreamed about his lips on her body, his fingers on her skin, his cock filling her, owning her, loving her. She shivered as a rush of feelings came back to her at once, and she closed her eyes again. "God, Elliot," she breathed.

"Cold?" his groggy voice asked, his eyes barely open. He reached up, wrapped one thick arm around her, and pulled her down to him, tight and close. He kissed the side of her head just above the temple, and whispered. "Best night of my life. Hands down." He chuckled softly and kissed her cheek. "I love you," he said a bit softer. It seemed so easy to say now.

She held her breath, just until she realized she wasn't still dreaming, and said, "I love you, too." She let herself relax into him, moaning slightly when she felt his fingertips running along her hip and thigh. She turned her head a bit, pursed her lips, and kissed his chin.

He moved, then, capturing her lips with his. His hand moved to the right, lower, finding the juncture of her thighs. A moan escaped when he found her, still slick, still hot.

She gasped when two fingers pushed their way into her, her hips bucked in reaction, owing to her sensitive and hyper-aware body. Her nails dug into his skin reflexively, and her teeth clamped down a bit onto his bottom lip.

He mumbled something to her, something she couldn't quite understand, and began to move his fingers faster, twisting them. He moaned again, right against her lips as he kissed her, and used his free hand to give her a prod, shifting her body on top of his. He looked up at her with a smile that relayed pure happiness; one he hadn't felt pull at his lips since his twins were born.

Her eyes rolled backward when he removed his fingers from her, and they widened a bit when she sensed his hands smoothing up her body, a trail of chilly wetness dragging behind two fingers of his right hand. She gasped when those palms of his reached their destination, cupping and gripping each firm breast, pinching and rolling each perked nipple. "Oh, God," she shivered, whispering his name. Her own hands fell to his chest, her nails curling downward and into his skin.

He pressed his lips together as h stared into her darkened eyes, and with another shift of his weight, he thrust his hips upward and, meeting the slightest bit of resistance, buried himself in her, again.

She curled forward, arching down to kiss him. She kept still, her pelvis flush against his, as her forehead rubbed against his. "Elliot," she breathed. "Nothing has ever felt..."

"I know," he interrupted, and then his left hand wound around her neck, his right pressed into her back, and he began to move in slow, deep, hard bucks. Holding her down wasn't intentional, but at the moment, he needed her as close as possible, to be as deep inside of her as possible, as if it was the only way to convince himself she was real, she was his, and this was happening.

There was so much he wanted to do to her, needed to do for her, but this, the third romp of the evening, was too incredibly meaningful to rush, too powerful to taint with lustful fantasies and foreplay. There would be time, later, he knew, to explore every inch of her with his fingers, his mouth, his tongue. He moved a bit faster, nipping at the skin of her neck before kissing her again.

They heard the shrill, angry cries of their cell phones, but they didn't stop, not for a moment. If anything it spurred them, igniting a faster and harder pace, deeper thrusts and louder moans.

Sweat formed on his chest, his back, his forehead. He kissed her with more fervor and fierceness, more passion, as his body took hers for its own, claiming every cell, every ounce of her soul.

She gave him every but of it in return, meeting him thrust for thrust, move for move, and emotion for powerful emotion. "Don't stop," she whispered, her lips brushing against his.

"Oh, never, baby," he said with a chuckle, moving faster still, holding her to him as tightly and closely as he could.

The phones rang again, seemingly louder, more pissed off, demanding their attention.

"Damn it," Elliot grumbled. He kissed her again and drove deeper into her, faster, until he heard her moans get higher and closer together. He knew she was close, he could feel her tightening. "Come on, Liv, cum for me, baby."

She bit down hard on his lower lip, a high-pitched squeak came out of her mouth and she tightened hard, clamping down, stopping him from thrusting. "Oh, my God," she cried, and then her vision blurred, her muscles seized, and her body heat reached a feverish point.

He growled almost violently as he held her to him and her name fell from his lips like a prayer as he fired off into her, shooting hotly and harshly with one, final, severe thrust. He, too, lost his senses and the world darkened for him, but only for a moment. With a weak and shaking arm, he reached for his cell phone, grabbing it with trembling fingers. He kissed Olivia softly as he answered. "Stabler," he said, blinking once. "Yeah. Asleep, phone was on silent, sorry, Cap." He kissed her again, careful to make it a silent but deep gesture. "On the way. Yeah, right, got it." He ended the call and tossed his phone onto the bed beside him, and then grabbed Olivia tightly and kissed her fully, madly, with a moan of her name that was swallowed by her surprised gasp. "I love you," he told her breathlessly.

She pecked his lips again, and then his chin, his cheek, and his forehead. "I love you," she said back to him.

"I know," he said, sitting up a bit and letting her slide down his body. "I've always known. It's been here, always, in the little things. The way you look at me, the way you fight for me, for my my kids. Everything, since day one, has been telling me...I just...I didn't her it until...until now." He kissed her again. "Loud and fucking clear, now," he laughed.

She nodded with her lip caught between her teeth. She was happy, for the first time in her whole life, genuinely happy. It scared her, and the thought of this failing, of losing him, made her heart sink and her throat close. "We can't fuck this up," she heard herself say, not meaning to voice it out loud.

"No," he said, shaking his head as he gently eased out of her and shifted her off of him. He got out of the bed, held out his hand, and when she linked her fingers with his, he said, "It's impossible to do that." He pulled her into his arms, walking backward toward the closet as he hugged her close. "You...you're everything to me. I think...whatever cards we're dealt...we can play them. And we'll take the pot."

She smiled at him and nodded, her eyes closing.

"I know what you're thinking," he whispered. "God, Liv, I thought about it, too, but the thought...kills me." He looked into her eyes and skimmed his hands up and down her arms. "Last night...this morning...it's never felt anything like this with anyone else. In any way. That's how I know." He ran the pads of his thumbs over the skin of her wrists. "I'm not gonna lose you, I mean, fuck, I need you more now than I ever have ever needed anyone, and as terrifying as it is, it's also..."

"Perfect," she whispered, kissing him. He hummed, agreeing, against her lips, and she smiled against his as she kissed him again. "We have to go," she complained, dropping her head to his chin and kissing his neck.

He grumbled and said, "Yeah," but as they dressed, pulling each other's clothes on, he smiled. The last few months had nearly destroyed him, but now he felt more whole and more alive than he could remember ever once feeling. He looked at her, and his heart gave a sharp, almost painful thud. He couldn't go back to life without her, he wouldn't know how to begin again if he had to. He wouldn't survive without her, not now that he knew what it truly was to love her, be loved by her, be inside of her, feel her surrounding him. He had to fight, now, harder than anyone should, because his existence depended on being with her. He felt his stomach churn and his lungs tighten, the beginnings of a panic attack. He took a deep breath and tugged lightly on her hand and when she kissed him, he calmed.

This, he thought, was why he needed to put his family back together. Why he needed to be sure his children understood, and that they would not crumble once again when they realized the brevity of what was happening with him and Olivia. He just got her where he wanted her, and he was holding on. For dear life.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **JoJo. ;)**_


	18. Chapter 18

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

Three in the morning.

At least, it was the time when she last looked at the clock.

Something that had been eating away at her all day had crept into her dreams, torturing her subconscious and startling her awake. She'd given up trying to go back to sleep and plodded out into the kitchen, where tea was made and a book sprawled out on the table. Though, of you asked her what she'd read, she'd only be able to repeat the first line back to you, it was the only bit she comprehended.

She gave up on the book, closed it and pushed it away from her, and took a sip of her tea. Her attention was set on the small glass vase in the middle of the slick, wooden surface, cupping a full bouquet of tissue-paper carnations and felt roses. The handmade card peeked out from the side, Dickie's Crayola-written name grinning at her. She sighed and reached a tired hand out, two fingers playing at the petals. A small smile spread across her exhausted face, and another, more contented sigh escaped.

"What are you doing?" his cool voice whispered into the moonlit room. He padded over to her, pulled a stool out for himself, and sat. Without thought or hesitation, he reached for her hand and knitted their fingers together. He gave her hand a squeeze, leaned over and kissed her cheek, and said, "I guess I can't sleep without you, now."

She smiled at him, offering a small laugh. "I was just thinking..."

"Don't lie to me," he interrupted. "Something woke you up, and if I'm not mistaken, I exhausted the shit out of you, so it had to have been something pretty big."

She bit her lip, remembering the way he undressed her after they'd put the kids to bed, the way he smoothed his body over hers and lavished her with the attention he'd meant to give her their first night together. She blinked once, trying to pull her memories away from the way his fingers moved inside of her, the way his lips and tongue discovered parts of her that she, herself, forgot existed. Another blink and she could almost feel him pushing his way into her, slowly, inch by inch, savoring the moment and making it last as long as possible. A small moan built in her throat, but she swallowed it as she turned to look at him. "You do have a way of wearing me out."

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "What's the matter?"

She dropped her head to his shoulder and wound her other hand around their tangled pair. "Were you ready for this?"

"I have been ready for this, with you, for years," he said, and then lowered his voice and growled in her ear. "I didn't feel ready to you?" he quipped, nipping at her ear.

"I meant," she said, rolling her eyes and stiffening slightly, "For all of this. What you told the kids, at dinner...what you said, El...you made this all sound so serious. So permanent. I need to know that you..."

"This is serious," he said, cutting her off, his voice stern, "And damn, it's fucking permanent, Liv. This is it for me. I told you that." He shook his head, as though he couldn't quite understand why she had any doubt.

She lifted her head and pulled her hands away from his, bringing them to his cheeks. "Yeah, I know that, but were you ready?" she asked again. "I know what you've been through, and you can tell me till you're blue-in-the-face that the relationship was rocky and you were filing for divorce, but you were married for your entire adult-life, death and divorce are two different things. If you needed more time, or if you think leaping into this with me, now, was a way to keep you from..."

"I am not using us as an escape," he said slowly, softly, deliberately. He twisted his hands around hers as they clung to his face. "And if I needed more time, I would have asked for it, or taken it. You're right, okay, it was a lot of years of my life, and I loved her, but I lost her a long time ago. And then I found you." He moved his hands from on top of hers to her cheeks. He brushed the pads of his thumbs under her eyes. "I have never been more ready for anything, in my whole life, than I am to start living it with you." He moved closer, slowly, and kissed her lips.

She kissed him back, pressing into him a little further, and pulled away only when she couldn't breathe. Gasping softly, she rested her forehead against his.

"Tell me," he said breathlessly, "What woke you up." He wrapped his arms around her.

"Bad dream," she whispered.

"Real specific," he mumbled, and then, a bit louder, he asked, "About me? About us?"

She shook her head. "About Kathy." She saw the look on his face and the flash of confusion in his eyes. "It wasn't horrible...just...disturbing." She took a deeper breath. "We were sitting on the couch, her and I, and she thanked me for taking care of the kids, for making sure they were okay and cooking, and cleaning, and..." she paused, her eyes turned up to look into his, and she said, "But then she just got angry. She said me taking care of the kids was one thing, but I had no right to take care of you. She told me...she told me that you were still her husband, and she wasn't ready to let go of that yet. That...that you weren't ready for everything that comes along with a real relationship...with me."

"You," he began, searching her eyes and brushing her hair back with his fingertips, "Are the only real relationship I've had. I mean, down to the bones, deep, real. It was just a dream, you know that, don't you?"

She nodded and swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "You told the kids that..."

"Yeah," he said, nodding, stopping her words. "They needed to know. I needed to tell them. If I didn't...and they figured it out, I...I couldn't risk them feeling betrayed, or hurt, and, you know, I didn't tell them anything that wasn't true. I didn't say we were getting married anytime soon, only that they might have to get used to the idea of that happening, and that it didn't mean I didn't love their mother."

"I know what you said," she told him. She knew. It had been burned into her memory and tattooed on her heart, the moment the words hit her ears. "I just...never thought..."

"Never?" he said, a teasing tone in his voice. He wagged his brows at her and kissed her. "I thought it about it, all the time. Honey, trust me, I'm ready. I've been ready, I just...didn't want to rush you or the kids, but I've been needing this, with you, since before...before everything...happened."

She nodded, closing her eyes, and she kissed him again. She maneuvered out of his hold and rose to her feet, grabbing her forgotten cup of tea and pouring it down the kitchen drain. She set the cup in the sink, making a mental note to wash it out in the morning. She turned to him, held out her hand, and held her breath as she watched him take it and stand. She let him kiss her and pull her out of the kitchen, but there was a clouded air around her, residual guilt from her dream that she couldn't shake. She smoothed the wrinkles out of her long, flannel pajama top, one of Elliot's, and took a few deep breathes as they climbed the stairs to the bedroom they now officially shared.

He opened the door, held it for her, and then closed it behind him. As he had done before, he wrapped her up in one arm and pulled the sheets down with the other, and then laid her on the bed before settling himself over her, his bare chest flush against her cotton shirt. "I love you," he whispered to her, kissing her deeply.

A loud, shrill scream broke them apart fast, and Olivia pushed him off of her and ran out of the room, heading down the hall to the girls' room to calm and comfort Maureen.

He watched her go, a sad smile on his face. He drew his hand down his face and cleared his throat. He was ready and willing to move on and start his life, truly living it, with Olivia. But now, he needed to be what he couldn't for his children for too long. He got off of the bed, crept down the hall, and slowly pushed Maureen's bedroom door open. He tiptoed in softly, hearing his daughter's soft sobs, muffled by Olivia's chest. Without a sound, he wrapped them both in his arms, and held them close, his eyes drifting toward the ceiling. To himself, he did something he'd forgotten to do in days.

He prayed.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	19. Chapter 19

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

 _Maybe we rushed into this too soon._

 _Maybe he needed more time. Maybe they all did._

 _Maybe I was giving him what he needed, after all, he's a man, and men do have certain needs..._ she pushed the very loud thoughts out of her head, as best as she could. Rubbing her eyes, she took a deep breath and tried to focus, though it wasn't easy since she didn't get any sleep.

"You okay?" Elliot whispered to her, his gravelly voice leaking with concern.

She nodded without even looking at him, and then looked over at the medical examiner. "Can you figure out time of..."

"Liver temp tells me she's been dead a little over four hours." Warner looked around, shaking her head. "Someone heard something, there's no way this happened and no one heard her scream."

"We'll canvass the apartments," Olivia said, shrugging, and then said, "Tell us what you find..."

"Don't I always?"the doctor interrupted, huffing as she rose to her feet. "Damn shame," she muttered. "She was just a kid."

"Yeah," Olivia croaked, grimacing. "We need an ID, as soon as possible," she said when she could breathe again. "Thanks."

Melinda turned sharply. "Don't thank me for this," she said with a dark tone. She lowered her voice and her eyes. "Sorry, I just...she's the same age as my daughter."

Olivia rested a hand on the doctor's shoulder, trying to keep a grip on the slippery nylon. "Same age as Kathleen, too, Mel. I know."

Warned nodded, tried to offer a warm smile, and then followed her team and the body bag to the black medical examiner's van.

Elliot bit his lip as he watched the van disappear down the road, and then he turned with a harrowed expression to Olivia. "What's the matter?" he asked, and then he lowered his voice. "Did I hurt you? Are you mad at me?"

"What?" she asked, sounding more irritated than she'd meant. "No. Can we talk about this later? We have to..."

"I can't work if there's something hanging between us here," he said, cutting her off. He watched as she softened, and he knew what the look in her eyes meant. "It's about Maureen, isn't it? About last night?" He licked his lips and continued. "You think we're moving too fast for the ids to handle?"

She was silent, but her silence spoke volumes.

He laughed and shook his head, having trouble believing they were having the same conversation they'd had at least twice, but he knew she would need some reassurance. Hell, he needed it, too. "We're fine, the kids are fine with us, it's..." he stopped, took a deep breath, and lowered his eyes. "I called George." He looked at her with a slightly quivering bottom lip. "For her. I mean, I think she needs to talk to someone, and I trust him. You trust him."

She inhaled sharply, let it out slowly, and said, "Yeah. I think...I think it'll help." She combed her hair back with her fingers. "You read me a little too well, you know that, don't you?"

He laughed. "You rad me just as well. And I wouldn't have it any other way," he said with a wink. He gave her a small nudge, guiding her toward the stone steps leading up to the nearby apartment complex. His hand smoothed downward a bit, following the curves of her thighs as she walked ahead of him. He swallowed back hard, keeping his arousal under control, knowing that beneath the black pants and teal v-neck top lay hidden a matching set of silk and lace that made his blood pump a little faster, his heart throb a little harder. He cleared his throat and tugged on his tie, loosening the collar just a bit to hopefully remind himself he was at work, but the need for her, in absolutely every way, had intensified tenfold within the past few days. He always knew reaching a new level of intimacy with Olivia would change his life, but he had no idea it would be so intense so immediately.

She turned to look at him and the moment her eyes met his, all of her doubts and fears seemed silly and unfounded. "Me either," she said, and with the words, a weight seemed to be lifted off of her shoulders. She turned back and, feeling lighter on her feet, sped up the pace, now eager to get the preliminary interviews over with so she could go home, with Elliot. She cleared her throat as she pushed the doors to the building open, and when she reached the front desk, she held up her badge. "Excuse me," she said firmly.

A blonde woman held up a finger, asking her to wait while she finished her phone call. She hung up and looked at Olivia. "We already donated to the PBA, officer."

"It's Detective," Olivia said, grinning. "Benson. My partner," she said, pointing at Elliot. "Detective Stabler. Were you the clerk working the night shift last night?"

"Yes," the woman said, but she'd gone slightly pale. "What's this about?"

Olivia jutted a thumb over her shoulder. "Did you hear anything, around two-in-the-morning, a woman screaming, or a fight outside?"

"Oh, yeah," the woman nodded. "There were a few loud fights, a couple of explosions, and a couple of screams," she said. "Did someone call you to complain about the noise? You know, the signs were posted well in advance, and the tenants had to sign consent waivers, so I'm sorry you wasted your..."

"Hold on," Elliot said, squinting. "You heard fights, explosions, and screams, and you didn't call the cops?" he questioned.

"Why would I?" the woman asked, confused. "It wasn't real, or anything, you know?" She gave Elliot an odd look, though the color had returned to her face.

Olivia shot Elliot a look and then slowly turned her attention toward the receptionist. "Waivers for what?"

"This," the blonde said. She reached across her desk and grabbed a flyer off of the counter. "NYU had their annual film festival last night, they rented out the courtyard. Student films, you know? Mostly slasher flicks." She folded her arms. "All of our tenants had to agree, you know? If some old hag on the sixth floor had to put her cats to bed at five, then we had to say no, you know? Everyone agreed, as long as they got free admission to the thing, you know?"

"Great," Olivia said, scanning the flyer the young lady had given her. "So no one heard the attack," she huffed, looking up and licking her lips. She crossed her arms and said, "And now we have an entire city full of suspects. The damn thing was open to the public." She thrust the flyer into his chest, not caring if he grabbed it or not before folding her arms together again.

"Nuh-uh," he said, sounding more like his son than himself. "Says at the bottom, 'all attendees must provide name and address at admissions stand as ticket price includes a DVD of the winning movies." He flipped the paper over and held it up to her. "See Alexa for details."

Olivia pulled the flyer out of Elliot's hand, one brow arched. "Alexa who?"

"Douglas," the blonde behind the desk interjected, "She lives in the building. It's the reason we let them use the courtyard, you know?"

Olivia held back the urge to throttle the woman, if she said 'you know' one more time. "Which apartment?"

"Five-D," the clerk said. "But I think she's still sleeping, it's early, you know?"

"Yeah," Elliot barked, and he began walking with Olivia toward the elevator. "We know!"

* * *

"And no one noticed a dead kid in the middle of their little Wannabe-Cannes?" Munch asked, shaking his head, trying to wrap his head around the situation.

"According to Alexa Douglas, a lot of students got drunk and passed out, and it was so dark she just assumed it was one of them," Elliot explained. "There were still people sprawled out on the lawn when they cleaned up around three," he added.

"We did get a list of everyone who bought a ticket," Olivia said, but she bit her lip and shrugged. "We don't know if our vic or the perp did, though."

Elliot looked over at Fin. "Warner call with an ID, yet?"

Fin squinted but reached for a notebook on his desk. He leaned back in his chair again and said, "No, but she did say there was a pretty distinct mark around her neck. She's gonna bring up photos."

Elliot looked at Olivia, and then at his watch, "Usually she's got more for us, by now."

Olivia stiffened and straightened up, looking past Elliot toward the doorway. "El," she said softly.

"I know, she's busy and there was more than one body on her slab, and I shouldn't..." and as if he only just noticed she wasn't looking at him, he furrowed his brow and turned around. "Oh," he said, straightening up just as Olivia had done. "Hey, kid."

Maureen walked toward him, slowly, and dropped her bookbag at his feet. "I got sent home from school. I told them you were working, so the nurse called..."

"Me," Cragen said, walking into the squad room, a very concerned look on his face. "I signed her out. I showed them the badge, they didn't ask questions."

"What..." Elliot went from looking at Maureen to Cragen and back again. He brushed his daughter's hair back and said, "What's the matter?"

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around her father, crying as quietly as she could into him.

He held his daughter, tight and close, and looked up at Cragen again, a question in his eyes.

"I'll go talk to him," Olivia whispered, squeezing his shoulder. She brushed Maureen's hair back as she passed and pointed to Cragen's office. She followed her captain into the small room, closed the door, and before Cragen could speak, she said, "What happened?"

Cragen sighed. "They wouldn't tell me much, only that they didn't think it was a good idea for her to be in school. You think it's about Kathy?"

Slowly, Olivia nodded. "She's been having the nightmares again. They're worse, now, though. So much worse," she said, her heart and her voice breaking. "I hate watching her cry, seeing her in so much pain, and I can't..."

"She asked for you," Cragen said, interrupting her. "She asked me to take her to you, but I didn't know where you were. You. Your partner's daughter asked for you, Olivia, do you want to tell me what that means?"

"You know I'm staying with him," Olivia said, tugging at her blue-green sleeves. "She cries, in the middle of the night, I run to her, try to...to help her...but I just..." her breath was coming in shorter spurts, her words were short, and the burn behind her nose told her what was happening, and that she couldn't stop it. "I'm there when she's crying and all I want to do is make it stop, but I can't, because I'm not her mother." She felt the hot tears rolling down her cheeks, felt them slipping down her chin and neck. "I can cook and clean and help with homework and read them all the bedtime stories in the world but I can't bring their mother back, and as much as I hated her I would trade places with her in a heartbeat if it meant everything would..."

"Shh," Cragen soothed, his arms wound around her.

She shuddered and took a shaky breath and only just realized she'd been yelling and crying, and that Cragen had pulled her into a hug to calm her down. She pushed him away gently and wiped her eyes with her sleeves. She sniffled and let out a breath slowly. "Sorry, I'm...I'm sorry. I don't know where that...I don't, uh, don't know why I..."

"Olivia," Cragen said, a warm yet somehow slightly sad smile on his face as he leaned against his desk, "You know why. So do I." He pressed his lips together and found the nerve to ask a question he always knew he'd need to ask. "Does he?"

She froze, the last tear falling as she brushed it away. Hesitantly, she nodded. "So what do I do?" she asked with a light scoff.

"What you're doing now," he told her. "What you've been doing. Be there for him. For the kids. They need you, that's why she asked for you." He looked toward the door. "She should talk to..."

"He already called George," she said, taking her turn to but into his speech. "I should call and see if he can come down, now that she's here."

Cragen slapped his open palms on his knees. "Good, that's good, but I was going to say...maybe she should talk to her mother."

Olivia furrowed her brow. "Cap, uh...how do you suppose she do that?"

Cragen looked at Olivia, long and silently. "The same way you do." He nodded once. He saw the look she was now giving him, one that seemed to ask how the hell he knew. "The same way I talk to my wife."

Olivia smiled at him, nodding back, and turned to leave, but stopped once her hand was on the knob. "What do you want me to do about..."

"Later," Cragen said. "My priority right now is the well-being of this unit, its members, and their families. Once I'm sure everyone is stable and happy, then we'll talk about it."

"That could take a while," Olivia said, giving him a cautious look.

"I know," he said, a slight smile on his face. He nodded again, and watched her leave his office. As soon as she was gone, though, the smile faded and he dropped his head into his hands. "Shit," he mumbled, and he got up, walked around to the other side of his desk, and sat down. He pulled open one of the oak drawers and thumbed through a group of files, searching for something. When he found it and pulled the stapled packet out of the file, he couldn't bring himself to do anything else with it. With another sigh, he closed his eyes, shoved the forms back down into the folder and slammed the drawer shut, hoping he'd never have to look for them again.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	20. Chapter 20

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"...so, I guess, that's it. I don't want you think...I know you know what's going on, but she's not taking your place. We're not forgetting about you. We miss you, Mom. So much." The young girl rested an open palm on top of the smooth stone, and then took a shuddering breath as she turned. "Okay." She sniffled and nodded, and then moved closer to Olivia.

Olivia smiled as she wrapped one arm around Maureen and fished something out of hr pocket with her free hand. She reached out and placed a small, red rock on top of Kathy's headstone, and then wound her other arm around Maureen, hugging her a bit tighter.

"What's that for?" Maureen asked, her head pressed against Olivia's stomach as she held her.

Olivia took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then explained, "It just...it lets them know we were here, that someone...someone came to visit. It's a sign of respect." She brushed Maureen's hair back and looked down at her. "We can come here whenever you want. All you have to do is ask."

"Thanks," Maureen returned with a somber smile. "I thought...I thought I'd feel silly, you know? Talking to her like that, knowing she wouldn't talk back, just...having a one-sided conversation with a pile of dirt." She shrugged and grabbed Olivia's hand, holding it as they walked through the cemetery toward the black SUV waiting for them. "It just felt...I don't know...normal." She turned her head and looked up at Olivia. "You're not mad that I talked about you, are you?"

"Honey, you can talk to her about whatever you want," she told her, letting go of her hand to get into the driver's side of the vehicle. She buckled up and waited, and when Maureen was settled in she said, "I just...I didn't know you felt that way." She stretched her arm across the console and brushed the backs of her knuckles along Maureen's cheek. "I love you, too, sweetheart."

Maureen smiled a bit more broadly, but it faded fast. "I didn't tell her about Doctor Huang." She turned away from Olivia and stared out of her window as they began to drive. "I mean, I know she knows. I know she's watching us all, and everything, but I just feel like...she'd be disappointed that I couldn't be stronger. That I'm making things harder for Dad, and you."

"Your mother is more proud of you than you will ever realize," Olivia told her. "It takes a lot of courage and strength to deal with things the way you have, never, ever apologize for your feelings, or for needing just a bit of extra help." She turned down the street, pulled up to the curb outside of what looked like a Gothic church, and parked. "Now, I know you want to try to make it through the day, today, but no one will be upset with you if you can't. Honey, if you need me, call me, okay?"

"I will," Maureen said, leaning over and kissing Olivia on the cheek. "Thank you. For everything." She got out of the car, swung her bag over her shoulder, and headed for the doors of Cardinal Catholic Preparatory School.

Olivia watched her until she disappeared into a sea of navy blue blazers, and her heart broke. Her eighth-grade graduation was a week away, and the first year of high school was hard enough on a normal basis. Maureen had far too much to deal with on top of it , and there were so may things heading for her, for which a girl just needed her mother. Maureen needed her mother. All of Elliot's kids did. But Maureen's words from that morning echoed in her head. _Olivia's here, and she's going to make sure we have everything we need. She's going to be there, Mom, like you would be._

She exhaled again and let her mind wander as she pulled away from the school and drove toward the precinct. She bit her lip as she tried to process the morning. How she had been the one to offer to take Maureen to talk to her mother in the first place, the litany of teenage drama she heard Maureen fill her mother in on, and as she turned and headed onto a main road, her thoughts drifted to Elliot.

He had been marked for tragedy, seen more than his fair share of violence. He, like her, had a horrendous childhood, a tumultuous relationship with his parents, he'd gotten into trouble too young, but did the honorable thing. He'd survived Desert Storm and fatherhood at nineteen, he'd lost his father to suicide and blamed himself for it for years. She scoffed at herself as she realized he still does. Just when he thought his life was falling into place, that things were finally stacking up and settling, it all came crashing down.

"Not fucking fair," she mumbled to herself, changing lanes fast and stepping on the gas. Bad things happen to good people all the time, she thought, but no one deserved the amount of shit that Elliot had been handed, and he was the most amazing man she'd ever met, the greatest person she'd ever known. After all the bad, he needed something good, and she felt responsible for giving it to him. She wasn't even aware that she'd cut off a few people and was going well over the speed limit, she was only focused on getting to work. Getting to him.

After what seemed like hours, she drove into the parking lot, squeezed into one of the compact-car spaces, and shot out of her seat like a rocket. She ran through the doors holding up her badge, waving absently to passing officers and staff, and ignored the line for the elevator, instead taking the stairs two-at-a-time. She composed herself and tugged down her shirt before pulling open the landing door, and stepped into the hallway with as much of a smile as she could muster.

"How is she?" his voice asked, his body appearing beside her seemingly out of nowhere. He handed her a green and white cup of coffee and resisted the urge to kiss her.

She took a sip as she walked with him into the squad room. "She got a lot off of her chest," she said, dropping the cup onto her desk. She shrugged off her suit jacket and crossed her arms. "She seemed...almost happy, when I dropped her off."

"Thank you," he said, his warm smile contradicting the lustful haze in his eyes, though both were dripping with love. "It's, uh, it's been pretty slow, here. Warner called, finally ID'd our dead girl. Munch and Fin went to notify the parents. Cragen thought...well, he didn't think it would be something I could do, not without you." He sipped his own coffee and shook his head. "I wish people around here would stop treating me like I'm made of glass. I'm fine, I'm absolutely fine. I mean, obviously, I'm moving on with my life, and I'm happier than I've ever been, so..."

"Maybe he didn't think sending you to tell them someone violated and killed their daughter, while you were worried about your own, was a good idea," she interrupted, eyeing him. "It probably had very little to do with Kathy."

He narrowed his eyes at her and tilted his head. "You never told me what he said to you," he said. "What you two talked about yesterday, in his office. He's been tiptoeing around me like he thinks I'm gonna bite him or something."

She sighed, twisted her lips in a confused curl, and said, "He's worried about you, and Maureen. He just wants to be supportive, but at the same time, he needs us to do our jobs. He's caught between being our boss and our family, so, I guess, he's just making executive decisions that he thinks are in the best interest of everyone."

"Did you tell him?" he asked, his eyes widening a bit. "About us? Shit."

"No," she assured him. "I didn't tell him anything. He...he already knew, El." She shrugged again and dropped her arms to her sides. "He doesn't know...everything, but he knows there's a reason I'm still staying at your place." She gave him a slight smirk. "I mean, honestly, someone was going to start asking questions sooner-or-later. It's been months."

"What does he know, exactly?" he asked, lowering his voice even more and moving closer to her.

She looked up, into his eyes. "He knows that there's feelings, emotional involvement...he just doesn't know that we did something about it, yet," she explained, as best as she could. "We need to keep it that way for as long as possible," she said with a somewhat bitter chuckle. "But I'll tell you, it's getting harder and harder to..."

"Keep my hands off of you," he finished, personally agreeing with her. "I know. I can't...I want to..."

"Hey," Fin said, breathless, as he rushed into the room. "Glad you're here, Liv. You two need to get down to NYU, this is the third girl this month that's been raped and killed, and the folks gave up a name. He looks good for it." He handed Elliot a piece of paper torn from his notebook. "Munch is with Warner looking at the reports from the other two vics, seeing if there's a pattern. I gotta go through the files, so you two..." he pointed to Elliot's hands. "Good luck with that."

Olivia moved closer to Elliot, his cologne filling her lungs and lighting a fire that would burn slowly until they got home. "Darren Palmera. That sounds familiar." She looked up at him, his eyes meeting hers. She swallowed hard as she looked at his lips, and then shot her focus back up to his eyes. "Why do I know that name?"

"Gloria Palmera," he said, cringing. "That's a case that...well, things could have fucking sucked," he said with a quick jerk of his head.

Olivia swallowed hard. She'd forgotten that particular horror.

Elliot continued. "She didn't have a son. Brother maybe? Is he..."

"Getting revenge the only way he thinks he can," Olivia said, grabbing her jacket and heading for the door. "Oh!" she turned fast. "Can you grab my..."

He silenced her by handing her the green and white cup in his left hand, and grinned as he sipped the one in his right. "I know you," he said with a wink.

She swallowed a mouthful of coffee as she led him out into the hallway. "So well it's scary," she said.

"Stairs," he shouted, grabbing her elbow as she headed toward the elevator. He pushed the door to the stairwell open and brought his coffee to his lips again. He smoothed out his tie as she walked by him and he chuckled as his eyes landed on her ass as she started down the stairs. "I never thanked you," he said, blinking. "For getting me through that. The whole, um, situation with...when I thought I might have..."

"You," she said, turning sharply and pointing a finger at him. "Never thank me. For anything. Ever."

He grabbed her pointing hand and pulled, kissing her hard and quick. "Fat chance of that," he said. He knew she was stunned, and he left her speechless as he breezed past her and down the stairs.

"Mother fucker," she hissed, laughing, and raced after him. They were talking and chuckling, drinking their coffee and enjoying a few moments of levity before thrusting themselves into more tragedy. She pushed the door open when they reached the lobby. "Oh, um," she began, tossing her now empty cup into a trash can as she moved through the hall with him by her side, "How did Maureen's meeting with Huang go? I didn't ask her this morning."

Elliot cleared his throat and threw his cup away before they walked through the doors and into the busy city. "Good. She worked through some stuff, let out some things she didn't want to unload onto me or you. He wants to see her again," he said. "Next week."

She walked a half a step behind him toward their sedan, the lightness she'd felt for the last few moments now gone. "She told Kathy," she said. "About us."

Elliot was silent for a long moment before he narrowed his eyes and shot her a cocky grin. "Liv," he said, opening the driver's side door, "Trust me. She already knows."

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


	21. Chapter 21

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

"That's it..." Olivia said, almost frozen. "That was my last one."

Closing the file on his desk as slowly and quietly as he could, he looked around. "I'm not gonna jinx it this time. Let's go," he said fast, and he stood up and grabbed his keys.

She followed him out the doorway, her jacket in her hand, and she chuckled to herself as she checked her watch. "Early," she said softly. "Almost too early. We sure we got the guy?"

"Open and shut case," he said with a shrug. "We had evidence even the best defense couldn't argue, and it, uh, it helps he confessed once we brought up his sister." They both turned, heading for the stairs, and seemed to race each other down, their laughter bouncing off the stone walls in the stairwell. Once they reached the lobby, though, they slowed down and walked through it with a too-professional expression on each of their faces. They nodded at colleagues and waved at the clerks at the desk, and when they pushed through the glass doors and the cool, night air hit them, they exhaled together and shared another laugh.

"God, it's like the best game of 'who's-got-the-button' ever," he joked, holding out his hand to her.

She dropped her fingers into his palm and smiled at him. "No, but we both got the button," she said with a wink. She looked up and shook her head. "I can't believe that guy was..."

"No more work," he said, suddenly stopping and turning to her. He pressed a finger to her lips. "Not one more word about work, okay?"

She tilted her head but nodded.

"Good," he said, returning her earlier wink, and he pulled her hand again, setting them off in the direction of his car. He opened the door for her, watched as she settled in, and ran around to the driver's side. He paused before he got in, and he looked up. He took a deep breath and let it out sharply, and then he whispered, "You can't be mad at me for this." A soft wind blew and he took it as an answer, smiled, and finally got in the car. He buckled his seat-belt after closing the door, jammed the key in, and started it up. "We, uh, we aren't going home. There's someplace I want to take you first."

"Oh, really?" she asked, one eyebrow arched. "Where, exactly?"

"You'll see," he said, "I'm just glad we got out while the night is still young, because I really didn't want to wait for the weekend to do this."

"Do what?" she asked, curiosity mixing with worry.

He smiled at her again. "Maureen...was happy. When I called to check on the kids, she was...she was fucking happy. I haven't heard her sound like that in almost a year." He glanced at her as he turned the wheel. "That's all your fault, Liv." He took a breath and looked back toward the road. "That's why...I need to do this, now."

She narrowed both eyes at him, then, and pressed her lips together. "You're scaring me."

He laughed, but reached over the console and grabbed her hand. "Nothing to be scared of, baby." He gripped her hand and raised it to his lips, kissed the back of her hand, and then curled both of their tangled hands around the gear shift.

The drive was quiet, but not uncomfortable, and fifteen minutes after leaving the precinct, the car slowed to a stop on a patch of loose gravel under a bridge. She looked at him quizzically. "Where are we?"

"You don't remember? Geez, honey, it hasn't been that long. Look! Think!"

She furrowed her brows, looked around again, and a realization hit her. "Our first case," she said with a small, light gasp.

He nodded and unhooked his safety belt. He crooked his finger at her and gave her a wicked grin.

"What are you..." she stopped, her eyes slitted a bit, and she smirked right back at him. "Playful little pup tonight, aren't you?" she quipped, and then unclipped her own seat-belt and crawled over the center console toward him.

"Pup?" he scoffed, sliding his hands over her hips. He pulled her badge off and tossed it onto the dashboard, and then tugged her gun out of its holster and dropped it onto the empty seat. "Full-grown bulldog," he mumbled, as he raised himself up and kissed her hard. He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her with him as he flattened back down, his free hand pulling the lever and lowering his seat.

She took the hint, her own hands beginning to maneuver and work his shirt buttons open. She nipped at his lips as she dragged her nails over his chest.

He moaned softly, and then growled a bit as he moved both hands toward her black pants. He pushed, pulled, tugged, jostled, finally getting them to obey him. He rolled them over her hips and laughed when she shimmied out of them.

Her dexterous fingers made quick work of his fly, shoved their way into and under the fabric of his jeans, and found him ready and eager. She moaned into his mouth as she pulled him free, stroking him lightly and slowly, waiting for him to make the next move.

"This is where it started," he whispered as he kissed her. "You and me, this...right here." He moved his lips to her neck and suckled as he moaned. He grabbed the thin elastic waistband of her silk underwear and pushed them downward, and with both hands on her ass, he moved her up his body and settled her directly over him.

She threw her head back as she felt him lowering her onto him, and the more she took him in, the louder her moan became. She knew no one could hear her. "Oh my God, Elliot," she breathed, whipping her head forward again and looking down at him. "What the hell are we doing?" she laughed.

He shook his head and brushed her thumb over her lips. "Don't," he said. He gave a light buck upward, making her moan, and he looked into her eyes.

Holding his gaze, almost too intensely, she began to move. Rocking slowly at first before sliding her body off and away, and then back onto him, deeper every time.

He swallowed hard and shut his eyes tight, holding onto every feeling he had, focusing on every sensation. When he opened his eyes, her nose was a hair away from his. "Faster," he commanded in a whisper, brushing her dampening hair out of her eyes and kissing her.

She moved faster, in waves, her fingers curling around his shoulders for leverage and grip. Her nails dug into his flesh when she felt him moving with her now, hitting upward and thrusting his body against hers. In the back of her mind, she remembered the details of their first moments together, as partners. The first argument they'd had, in the front seat of the very car they were in now; the first battle over motive and difference of opinion over evidence; the first time they'd said the same exact thing at the same exact time, and how soon they began to read each other's minds and body language; he had been right, it had all started right here. "Oh, my God," she whimpered, feeling a hard thrust hit her and snap her out of her reverie. "El," she cried, gritting her teeth.

"I know baby," he said, his teeth grazing a purpling spot on the top of her left breast, where he'd been sucking. "Hold on, wait for me," he mumbled, taking her nipple into his mouth. Her loud gasp and clenching muscles made him even harder, though he wasn't sure it was possible, and he moaned as he twisted his body in an attempt to work his right hand between their bodies.

"Oh, God, Elliot!" she cried again, in response to his fingers somehow finding her clit and rubbing hard. "Can't...hold...fuck," she panted. Her lips found his hard, fast pulse and she bit around it, a bit of his neck now throbbing against her tongue. She screamed in frustrated pleasure as he worked harder to drive her crazy.

"Fuck, Liv," he growled gruffly, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, down his back, across his chest. "Oh, God, baby," he moaned, letting his head fall back against the car seat. He growled again and moved his body faster, harder, meeting hers thrust-for-thrust until finally he gave her permission and whispered, softly, "Let go."

Their groans and cries competed in volume and pitch; their hands gripped at bits of skin and muscle as they blindly thrashed and combusted. He felt her tighten and suck him in deeper, holding him in, tight. She felt him explode beneath her, inside of her, for her. Her body crumpled onto his, her lungs burning with need for fresh air as her heart pounded faster than it ever had. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, anywhere his lips could reach, as he whispered to her over-and-over.

With closed eyes and a smile that seemed to wrap full around her head, she nestled against him, shivered in aftershock, and said, "I love you, too."

"Marry me," he heard himself say, and the words seemed to shock him as much as they had her. Both bodies stiffened, both heads turned, and when their eyes met, he opened and closed his mouth like a freshly caught fish. "I...I didn't..." but he licked his lips and realized, yes, he fucking actually did. "Liv," he panted, blinking slowly and catching one, final breath just in case she killed him after he repeated, "Marry me."

Still shimmering with a light layer of cold sweat, still struggling to regulate her breathing, and still staring into his eyes with a stunned pair of her own, she kissed him. Her fingers flitted up his body, she felt the goose-bumps form under her hands. She smoothed them along his shoulders, his neck, until they wound in his short, damp hair. She moved her tongue slowly, dancing with his, no noise accompanied her breathy moans. She pulled away and gave him three small, quick pecks, slowly disbursing them on his mouth and chin, until she stopped and looked at him again.

"Was that...was that a 'yes?" he asked, part of him wondering if maybe, just maybe, it was a kiss goodbye.

She moved toward him again. Slowly, she kissed him again, and when she pulled back this time, she smiled. "Yes," she said, sounding certain.

He laughed and pulled her into him again, kissing her a bit harder, a bit more aggressively, chuckling against her lips. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, and locked her in place with his powerful thighs. He had her, now, and he was holding onto her forever.

For dear life.

 _ **Peace and Love**_

 _ **Jo**_


End file.
